Bound
by vee23
Summary: Sequel to Bonds. Post RotF movie-verse. Sam and Optimus' relationship is exposed and some of the autobots take it badly, but what happens when the Decepticons find out? SamxOp, later surprises. M for language, torture, other cruelties. Story complete!
1. Here we go for the hundredth time

Author's Note: Woo! Sequel. :D I got such positive response and so much traffic on Bonds that I decided it needed more, that and some pressuring from close friends whom I love. I'm going to try and include more autobots and maybe even give Leo some lines in this one so please, bear with me. This is for my best friend, Neko, who's turned 18 today. C: Happy birthday, dearie.  
DISCLAIMER: Any of the Transformers, Sam Witwicky, and other minor characters from the movie-verse are not mine. Just this story is.

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Sam thought that his trip to Hawaii with Lennox, his family, and the autobots would be fun and relaxing. Fate seemed to always prove him wrong. He knew he was being extremely careless with Optimus; he had been warned about acting differently around the rest of the gang oblivious to the truth. Since they'd gotten on the plane, the autobots seemed inquisitive about Sam and Optimus' newly mended relationship. Every time Sam began to slip up, he'd get a quick nudge by Optimus' elbow and a clearing of his throat. It upset Sam that he had to act a certain way with the Autobot leader in public, but he knew that it was better for Prime's image. At first, Sam Witwicky wasn't even aware of the fact that he and Optimus had been discovered. It had all happened so fast.

He recalled Optimus' soft breath burning on his neck as his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears. Gentle hands caressed Sam's body as he tried to organize the mess inside his head into intelligible thoughts. It was the second time he and Optimus had ever done anything like it and it was just as mind-blowing as the time back at his dormitory. Sam felt the warmth radiating from Optimus Prime's Spark through his chest as their bodies connected time and time again. Despite how much he wanted to be with Optimus, he was wary of them being found out. He was sure that everyone was in the living room of the condominium playing Rock Band and that he'd locked the bedroom door as they went in. He apparently didn't. Light leaked through the doorway, outlining their figures on the bed, as it swung open.

"Hey, Optimus, I was just wondering if you wanted to play Rock Band with u---OH MY GOD!" The door slammed shut as fast as it had opened. "SORRY, I didn't know you were busy!" It was Skids' voice. The noise had certainly frightened Sam off of Optimus. The culprits hastily reached for some type of clothing while they heard footsteps recede from the door. Skids had found them out completely by accident.

Skids was standing outside the room, his dark face twisted with shock. Mudflap was waiting down the hall for his twin to emerge with Optimus but approached when he saw that he was alone, "What's the big idea? I thought you were gonn' get Optimus, yo."

"Naw, dude! He's playing a two-player game in there! I don't think you want to play." Skids said, rubbing his eyes as if it would get rid of what he just saw forever. His identical twin looked at him inquisitively with piercing blue eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"You gotta keep it on the downlow, Mudflap!" Skids turned his voice into a whisper, but the two in the bedroom could still hear him through the door. Sam was preoccupied with helping Optimus find his pants that he had somehow misplaced in the darkness of the room. "I was _gonna _ask Optimus if he wanted to play, but when I opened the door, I saw him gettin' it on!"

"You're shittin' me! With who?" His voice was loud and clear.

"I'm thinking it was Sam...but don't tell _anyone!_" Skids reiterated. Sam knew where this was going to go. His cover was already blown.

"Oh, okay...I got you..." Mudflap said, his voice getting more distant as he traveled down the hall. When he was a presumably safe distance from his twin, he shouted at the top of his lungs, "IRONHIDE! RATCHET! YOU GOTTA HEAR THIS!"

Footsteps that Sam assumed belonged to Mudflap pounded towards the living room. He began to panic as he smoothed down his hair and wiped the sweat off of his face with a washcloth. They both heard Skids spout curses as he pursued his brother in the hallway, "I said 'keep quiet', dumbass! Get back here!"

"Guys!" Mudflap ignored the scolds shouted by his twin behind him. "You'll never guess what Skids just saw!"

Sam and Optimus, fully dressed and presentable, burst from the bedroom in pursuit. But it was too late. As they got to the living room, Mudflap was already finishing the single sentence that exposed them.

"Sam and Optimus were getting jiggy with it!" He declared. All the eyes in the room fell on the two of them; it was worse than the time he'd been embarrassed at Princeton. Much worse. There was an awkward silence as Ironhide, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Sideswipe, Skids, Mudflap, Will, and his family waited for a response to Mudflap's discovery.

Ironhide looked like he was going to be sick. Bumblebee seemed so betrayed that he couldn't even bear to look Sam in the eye. Sideswipe wore a grin of disbelief on his face. Ratchet appeared indifferent to the whole thing.

"Well?" Optimus' weapons specialist asked. "What do you have to say about this?"

Lennox's wife took Annabell out of the room, muttering something about 'needing to change her diaper'. Sam was going to explain; he was going to tell them the truth and nothing but the truth before Optimus broke him off.

"Neither of us will deny what the twins have said. I'm sorry for not telling you all before but we believed that it was a personal decision that didn't involve your opinions," Optimus said, finalizing the damage. Sam felt like committing suicide. Tension lingered in the air as Ironhide exhaled angrily and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam looked at Optimus and they shared the same thought--Ironhide did not like the idea whatsoever. He never said anything about 'Hide being against the whole 'human in love with a transformer' deal.

"Interesting..." Ratchet murmured.

Bumblebee stood up, his eyes welling up with tears as he gave Sam a hurt glance. He was silent as he turned away and left the living room. Sam felt horrible--he didn't know that Bee would react that way. He wished that it could've happened any other way; there was no avoiding it now. He had been found out. And the autobots weren't exactly ecstatic about it. Somehow this wasn't the way Sam imagined his vacation would go.


	2. Hand grenade pins in every line

Author's Note: I hope I made some people laugh with the first chapter. I know these first couple bits aren't going to be too interesting but believe me, an action scene is on the way. Another piece for my Neko on her 18th birthday.  
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own any of the Transformers, Sam Witwicky, or any minor characters. I own the story.

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Sam finally got hold of Bee the next day after much pleading to listen to him. His guardian explained that he was afraid that because Sam was with Optimus, their friendship would no longer be what it was. It took an hour or so to reassure Bumblebee that despite his relationship with the Autobot leader, he would still be around. The rest of the week in Hawaii was miserably awkward with Ironhide making his discomfort known and Ratchet's curiosity about how robots and humans could possibly do anything together. One of the last nights that they were there, Sam woke up in the middle of the night by what Optimus claimed to be a "heated discussion" between him and his weapon's specialist.

Of course, Sam knew better than that. Ironhide didn't like it and Optimus was defending them. He felt helpless. As much as he loved the autobots in their entirety, they only seemed to be making his relationship more complicated than it needed to be. His heart sank into his stomach at the thought of Optimus taking all of 'Hide's anger for Sam like he was a little kid hiding behind his parent.

The next day, Sam Witwicky packed his bags reluctant to be returning home so soon. It would be back to Princeton in a matter of hours.

"Are you ready to leave?" It was Optimus. He always popped in an out without a sound. Sam didn't jump when he'd come out of nowhere anymore. "Our flight leaves in two hours. Major Lennox is waiting outside with a car for you."

Sam zipped up his bag with some difficulty; he was coming back with more stuff than he'd gone with. "Okay. I don't suppose you're riding with me."

"I can't. The Autobots and I will be at the airport when you get there. Don't worry."

"Everyone?"

"Sideswipe will be in the car with you. Will said he wanted it that way."

Sideswipe would be with him; that made him feel a little better. The Johnny Depp look-alike had changed his persona again, this time to an equally famous (and attractive) celebrity. Sam recalled him mentioning how he'd seen the movie _Iron Man _and really liked the main character's actor. Ever since then, he had sported a Robert Downey Jr. human form. Although he assumed Downey, Sideswipe was much more cleanly shaven than the actor in his 2008 blockbuster hit. Sam liked his new appearance better; Sideswipe was absolutely in love with it.

"Are you going to be all right?" Optimus asked his voice full of concern. He always sounded worried for Sam's wellbeing, which sometimes got on his nerves.

"Yeah. I'm fine." He lifted his bags and kissed Prime's cheek as he went out the door. Hawaii held a lot of bad memories now; he didn't want to go back to the continental United States but he certainly didn't want to stay.

Will Lennox and his family were sitting inside a deep red Kia Sorento in the parking lot, awaiting Sam patiently. He threw his bags into the trunk and climbed into the backseat, where Sideswipe was sitting on the other side with Lennox's daughter in the middle. His eyes caught a glimpse of neon yellow as Bumblebee led Optimus, Ratchet, Ironhide, and the twins on ahead towards the airport.

"Sam, you got everything?" Sideswipe wore a black tee with jeans and his signature aviators, sporting a much darker tan than when they had arrived. Sam nodded silently.

"So, you ready to leave?" Will asked, his hand tapping gently on the steering wheel. He was such a nice guy to Sam even after everything that had happened. "Hey, no worries, huh? Next vacation we go on will be better, I promise."

"Yeah, let's go." Sam sighed, hoping what Lennox was saying would be true, and rested his head against the window to fall asleep.

The airport process was as painfully long to go home as it was to go out. They had to return the rental car, get their luggage tagged, go through inspection, find the terminal their plane was on, and meet up with the Autobots which was easier said than done. The Transformers had never ridden on a civilian airplane before, and had a problem getting through security checkpoints. Every time one of them went through metal detectors, it would set off an alarm. They couldn't really explain why they went off if, after a thorough inspection of their persons, there was no metal to be found. Lennox spotted them on their way in and waved his military ID to the airport officials, explaining that they were with him. The attendants silenced themselves and went back to searching the next person's belongings.

"Are all airports so unnecessarily thorough on Earth?" Ratchet said quizzically from across the table. They were sitting at a Starbucks sipping coffee since their plane was reported to be about fifteen minutes late.

"At least they are in America. That's what happens after terrorist attacks." Sam said bluntly, slurping a venti Strawberries & Crème smoothie through his straw. He wasn't sure how exactly the autobots were able to drink coffee (or eat for that matter) but if Ratchet was doing it, then it must've been fine. Bumblebee sat next to Sam, tasting the Double Chocolaty Chip drink that he'd ordered for his Camaro to try. Ironhide sat at a table across the café' with Sideswipe and the twins sipping an Espresso, talking so quietly that Sam had a hard time hearing his voice over the intercom announcing arriving and departing flights.

"Terrorist attacks?" Ratchet's eyes went blank for a moment but Sam knew what he was doing. At any moment, the Transformers could check the world wide web for something they wanted to know. He returned with a small gasp for breath, "Oh. I see. 9/11 sounds horrible."

"Eh, I don't know. I was still living on the West Coast then but it used to be all over the news." Sam shrugged it off. Optimus sat down on his other side and hesitated to make any physical gesture towards him. Sam figured he didn't want to embarrass him, although that certainly wasn't it. Prime didn't order any coffee; he claimed he wanted to sleep on the plane.

_"Flight 230, bound for New Jersey, has just arrived. Departure in thirty minutes. Passengers, please report to terminal 18 for boarding."_

"That's us, you guys. Come with me." Will threw away his coffee cup and grabbed his carry-on bag for his wife. Everyone finished their drinks, got their belongings (with what little they had except for Sam), and followed him through the airport.

Sam hated flying. He hated the feeling of flying. Any moment, he could be shot out of the sky or attacked by some Decepticon disguised as another plane or an F-22 Raptor or a Cybertronian Jet. He hated it. The only thing that calmed him was the fact that he was sitting next to Optimus Prime, who was reading a book despite the turbulence that the plane was experiencing. They had already stopped in California to switch flights (Sam refused to visit his parents in the meantime; they were probably in Japan for all he knew) and was told that they would have to stop at the delta in Atlanta to switch flights again before it would be smooth sailing back to school. At least, that's what Sam hoped for.

"Are you all right?" Optimus closed his book—_The Last Olympian._ Who knew that Prime would like some story about Greek mythology? Sam shook off the autobot's worries, "I'm good. Just a little airsick."

He leaned his head on Optimus' shoulder, trying to ignore the nauseous feeling he had in his stomach. It felt as if knives were stabbing at his insides but the moment he shut his eyes, he fell asleep.

The flight from Atlanta wasn't as bad. The airport was hell; Sam had never seen such an insanely huge building. He heard Ironhide remark that it wasn't the "Atlanta Delta" for nothing. Thousands of people made their way to flights or lounged in the food court or waited for their baggage at the front. Trams made their way from terminal to terminal, delivering people to their designations. In fact, a couple of times, Sam had even almost gotten lost if it weren't for Bumblebee and Optimus keeping an eye on him.

Sam didn't even get motion sickness on the way from Atlanta; there was no turbulence to upset his stomach. Once or twice, he had asked a stewardess for a Sprite and some pretzels while he gazed out the side window at the land that looks so microscopic below. He had to sit next to Bee that time, since Ratchet and Optimus apparently had "much to discuss" but he didn't mind. Bumblebee enjoyed peering out the window just as much as he did. The Autobots couldn't fly like the Decepticons so Sam thought Bee must've been enthralled at the sight.

Before he knew it, they were going down for landing. His heart was doing back flips in his chest as the plane touched solid ground—no more feeling of being attacked at random.

Finally the captain turned off the seatbelt light, allowing the passengers to get up to get their things and leave. Will looked much more use to military planes than civilian planes as he stood up stiffly, "So, anyone else want to get out of here?"


	3. Throw 'em up and let something shine

Author's Note: Sorry this one is so long. I just couldn't find a way to split this scene into two parts. I hope you guys enjoy it. More to come! :]

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any Transformer, or Sam Witwicky, or any other minor character. I just own the story.

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"You guys head on back to base. Bumblebee, the twins, and I will escort Sam back to college. It's been nice seeing you, Will." Optimus said warmly, giving Lennox one of those 'man-hugs'. He nodded to Lennox's family politely and said goodbye.

Will came at Sam with his arms outstretched to give him a hug, "You take care, all right kid? Don't hesitate to call if you need anything."

Sam returned the hug and felt an odd sense of sadness washing over him as he knew he wouldn't be seeing Major Lennox for a while. "Yeah. I'll be sure to. I am the kid with the attitude problem after all."

His old military pal chuckled before he took the driver's seat of his Nissan Altima. "All of you take care. NEST will be sending reports if we need anything from you guys."

Optimus nodded understandingly. With that, the Lennox family was gone. Ironhide, Ratchet, and Sideswipe had already disappeared from sight (probably to find someplace to turn into cars). Eventually, they found an empty corner of the parking garage. Optimus said he would be waiting outside the airport towards the highway; Peterbilts didn't exactly fit under the clearance height for the garage. Sam climbed into Bumblebee's driver seat and buckled in as his tires screeched to life and the three of them peeled out of the airport parking lot, one twin on each side of the yellow Camaro.

Sam reclined in his seat and blasted some rock group on the radio as he rested his eyes. After about half an hour, the radio warbled loudly to play an excerpt that said, "_Captain, incoming._"

Sam sat up and checked the rear-view mirror. Sirens wailed behind him as a police cruiser made its way through heavy traffic in pursuit of the sports car. He knew that Mustang from years ago; how was it that Barricade was still alive? That was the same cop car that had chased him and Mikaela before everything had started, back before he knew his car was an alien robot. Come to think of it, he never saw him after they blocked him off on the way to Mission City. Maybe he hadn't even gotten there at all. Whatever the case, he was hot on their tails, bashing cars that seemed to be in the way of his target.

"Oh shit. Bumblebee! Do something!" Sam screamed; he was beginning to panic. His life was never going to 'return to normal' was it?

_"Roger that."_

The Camaro swerved to its left in an attempt to throw off its pursuer, causing the red Trax to careen as well.

"Optimus, Twins, we've got trouble!" Sam shouted through the open driver's side window, hoping that he could be heard over the roaring wail of the siren. The Peterbilt behind him honked its horn in acknowledge, maneuvering to block off any way to the Camaro. The Twins also fell back, trying to keep Barricade out of reach of Bee.

There was still a good sixty miles to his college. Why was it he couldn't even come back from vacation without a threat on his life being made? Sam clung to the front seat and hoped, watching through the back window at the high speed chase. Bumblebee weaved through cars, trying to get further ahead so Barricade wouldn't stand a chance in catching him.

However, Optimus was a large vehicle which made it too easy for the police car to make its way around him. The Twins didn't stand a chance either; the interceptor bashed its side hard against either Chevy that dared to get in his path. Dread began to fill Sam's mind. Skids and Mudflap were speeding to catch up, as was Optimus, but Barricade was extremely fast.

In a matter of seconds, the enemy was on the Camaro, slamming itself into Bee's side. Sam covered his face from the shattered glass exploding from the passenger side window, and a warble of annoyance erupted from the radio. The cruiser had somehow swerved onto Sam's side as well and bashed the window in. Sam screamed, trying to avoid any projectiles coming his way.

What the hell did the Decepticons want now?!

_"Hang on!"_

Sam heard a loud pelting noise on the roof and looked up to see dents in the ceiling. The front and back windshields both shattered instantaneously. Sam ducked down underneath the dashboard to dodge the glass and peeked out of the window to see a Raptor and a Jet soar overhead, showering the sports car with bullets. Fuck. Not them too. A sign by the interstate said fifty more miles and there was a tunnel ahead. Surely that would rid them of the aerial problem, Sam thought.

Sam heard the familiar horn from the Peterbilt as Optimus and the Twins closed in on Bumblebee. Optimus rammed his fender into Barricade's bumper and the Ford Mustang police interceptor swerved from the hit. The twins assumed their posts on either side of Bumblebee. Once again, Sam could only watch helplessly.

Starscream and Megatron flew over and released another couple rounds of bullets at Sam's entourage, but they didn't budge from their positions. They had horrible aim because not a single shot got anywhere near their tires, which is where Sam would shoot if he were trying to stop a car. Sooner than Sam thought, they dove straight into the underground tunnel lit only by soft yellow lights.

Barricade was still following in cruiser form, and Optimus was doing a good job of fending him off. There was a loud roar overhead. Sam's mouth dropped open. "No."

The Cybertronian Jet had followed them into the tunnel, its engine growling as it began to up the ammo. Bumblebee swerved as he tried to dodge the flaming balls of energon fired by the jet. The aircraft had flown so low, it took off the pipes on the Peterbilt's cab before it went on ahead and emerged from the tunnel, disappearing into the blindingly bright sky. Sam was sure that that wasn't the last he'd seen of Megatron. Barricade had squeezed past Skids and was next to the driver's side again, barreling into Bumblebee again in an attempt to send Sam flying out of one of the broken windows. He held onto the driver's seat, "Bee, we can't keep doing this! We have to get off the highway!"

_"Yes, sir!" _

They came out of the tunnel battered and wary. It was only a matter of time before Starscream and Megatron would come back for another round. Sam waited until another sign on the interstate declared an exit bound for Quaker Road. That connected to Mercer Road, Sam remembered Bee taking him for spins down that road. It wasn't too crowded past the Princeton Battlefield park; a perfect place to go in case someone decided to have a robo-brawl. That road would take them straight back to school with enough time in between to get rid of the annoying cop.

The exit was coming up soon but Bumblebee was occupied with avoiding his pursuer. They wouldn't make it in time. "Bee, tell the others to turn off on this next exit!"

The radio chirped in response. Sam grabbed onto the steering wheel and swerved to the right, hoping that it would give the twins the incentive to follow. Sure enough, in the rear-view mirror, Skids and Mudflap joined Bumblebee on the off ramp. Optimus was bringing up the rear, still trying to deal with Barricade who was grinding sides with him.

Sam sent Bee careening from Quaker onto Mercer in an abrupt skid of tires. The trees that hung over Mercer road would give them enough coverage from the skies. Despite Witwicky's plan, the roar of aircraft overhead deafened him as an F-22 and Cybertronian Jet dove down towards the ground and assumed their robot forms in mid-air. Sam heard Megatron spout something in Cybertronian but he couldn't understand him.

Bumblebee swerved and the driver's door went flying open, sending Sam out of the car before he too transformed. Skids, Mudflap, Optimus, and Barricade were no longer cars either. Sam ducked down in the underbrush as Bee tackled the police cruiser, sending him crashing into the clearing of Princeton's Battlefield Park. Megatron had occupied himself with Optimus Prime, who was already scuffed up from the highway chase and dodged a blast of energon. His leg that Optimus had cut off during the bridge escapade was all fixed; it had only been a month and a week or two.

"Hey you! Yeah, you, Decepticon trash!" Mudflap shouted, drawing Starscream's attention from teaming up against Prime. "Come and get yo' daily serving of ass-whoopin', punk!"

The twins charged Starscream, getting him from both sides with their energon cannons. Being smaller, Sam noticed that they had the upper hand over their bulkier Decepticon enemy. Starscream swatted angrily, trying to hit one of the twins like flies. He managed to get one shot at Skids, which did send a piece or two of his left arm flying, but that didn't seem to lessen their barrage on the Raptor. They dodged and rolled and jumped out of the way of every shot Starscream made. The two of them were just too fast for him.

A blast of energon hit the F-22 in the face, causing him to stumble back with a sparking optic. Skids landed and laughed, his cannon hissing with steam. "Take that, asshole!"

Sam tried his hardest to catch every single second of the three battles going on at once. He heard a tree that must've been several feet thick snap in half as Barricade threw Bee around with ease. Bumblebee rolled and fired at Cade's torso, hitting a chink in his armor. The Ford howled in anger and grabbed Bee's right arm, his cannon. A horrible noise filled the air—the screeching sound of scraping metal. The same noise when you rub two steak knives together. Sparks flew as Barricade ripped the cannon away entirely from Bumblebee's arm and threw it aside. His Camaro warbled out a cry of pain before he swung a fist at the Mustang.

"Bumblebee!" Sam shouted, still trying to keep low and out of the action. By accident, one of the transformers could easily step on him. He didn't realize that the whole time he was watching Bee fight, Megatron was slowly advancing in his direction. He only realized when Optimus called to him, "Sam! Watch out!"

Prime had tripped Megatron, but the Decepticon leader was clawing his way toward Witwicky with thirsty red eyes. "Come here, boy! I'm nowhere near finished with you!"

"Sam, stay down and stay safe!" Optimus wrapped his hands around one of Megatron's legs and threw him overhead in the opposite direction from Sam. If Sam lingered, he'd only be a nuisance to protect. His arms flew up to protect his sweat drenched face from shrapnel as the twins ripped away one of Starscream's wings. Optimus' hand raked at Megatron's chest near his Spark, tearing away armor and the metal underneath. The Decepticon leader swung at Prime defiantly and sent him staggering back several feet. The Park really did look like a battlefield now.

"Lord Megatron, we need to retreat!" Starscream choked out, still being pelted with shots from the twins. Meanwhile, Bumblebee wasn't doing so well. He blocked hit after hit with his good arm but had difficulty standing his ground against his enemy. Megatron was leaking some sort of oil from his chest wound, growling angrily at his brother.

"This isn't over! Starscream, come with me! Barricade, stop!" The two assumed their aircraft forms and spiraled upwards in the sky. Sam wondered if they'd even make it back to Cybertron with Starscream missing a wing and all. Before he could even notice, the Ford Mustang was far away roaring down Mercer in defeat.

"Sam. Skids and Mudflap will take you back to your college. I need to see to it that Bumblebee gets back to headquarters." Optimus was holding Bee's severed cannon. Sam's heart was splitting in two at the sight of his wounded car.

He didn't get a chance to say goodbye to them before the Camaro and Peterbilt drove away. The twins were quick in getting him back to Princeton. Back to his normal life.


	4. Going out of my fucking mind

Author's Note: I made a Neko happy! (: yay. Yeah, sorry that this takes a turn for the worse. I don't think there's going to be much sunshine from here on out. My bad.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Transformers, or Sam Witwicky, or any other human characters either. I just own the story.

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A year passed since the Autobots' trip to Hawaii. Sam was officially a sophomore at Princeton, which astounded him. He didn't think he'd survive long enough to get to his second year. The Decepticons hadn't made a single move since the car incident. They hadn't been heard from, NEST didn't have any new targets, nothing. Earth was...peaceful. Sam thought he'd never see the day. But sure enough, he'd managed to live through six months without getting assaulted a single time. The calm made him...uneasy. It seemed too good to be true.

Of course, other things hadn't gone as well for Sam Witwicky. Upon returning back to his dormitory the first night, Leo told him a package had been delivered for him several days earlier. It was addressed to him, signed by Mikaela Banes. He thought it would be a Christmas present or something like that when he opened it. A note sat tied to the box inside the package, folded and taped. Sam unraveled it and read.

_"Sam, I'm sorry things have to end up this way. I can't deal with robot wars anymore. I'm trying to help my dad out and trouble seems to follow you wherever you go. I know I said nobody else could possibly be your girlfriend...but things aren't changing like I thought they would. I'm giving you back a few things. I'm sorry. I love you." _The paper looked like it had water stains on it—had she been crying when she wrote it? They could quite possibly be from Sam though. He felt tears running down his cheeks. The box shouted, "C'mon, let me out!"

You're kidding me, Sam thought. Hesitantly, he undid the lock on the box with the key Mikaela had included in the package. The most annoying blue RC car burst from the box, shouting cuss words. Sam shook his head and groaned. "Not you."

Wheelie spilled out onto Sam's bed, "Hey, what the hell does that mean? Warrior Goddess didn't _have _to give me up, you know. We were perfectly happy together, unlike the two of yous."

"Why'd she send you?"  
"She didn't want anything to do with the Transformers no more. She also stuffed me in there with this crap." He began chucking out cords, the webcam Sam had given her, among other things. "Boy, it must be rough. You got dumped by one of the hottest dames on this planet. I feel for you, man, I do."

"Shut up. You can stay with me, I guess. Just don't let my roommates see you. You might freak them out."

Since then, nothing much out of the ordinary had occurred. He actually took being dumped better than he thought he would. It certainly made him feel more comfortable (and a little less guilty) doing what he'd been doing with Prime. But being stuck with Wheelie certainly wasn't what he had in mind of his relationship's aftermath.

Sam had to take Bumblebee to the Auto Repair shop to replace every single one of his windows (he lied and told the mechanic that someone had thrown rocks through them). Optimus constantly need Bee back at the Autobot base (which was now much more local, in an underground storage facility by Lake Carnegie in the woods), so in the meantime, Sam simply told his friends his Camaro was in the shop and that his rental car was a Corvette Stingray.

He grew awfully close with Sideswipe over the months, even so far as to consider him a best friend. When he wasn't posing as his 'rental car', he was walking with him around campus. However, every single day Optimus Prime would show up in Christian Bale form to walk Sam to his classes. He hadn't seen Bumblebee for a while but Optimus attempted to calm his worries by claiming that Ratchet and the others needed him at headquarters.

Sam lay on his bed and ignored Wheels' complaints about his dorm. Leo came in from the other room and jumped at his computer, probably putting some stupid video on or some other propaganda website. "Hey, Sam, what are you doing sitting around? Don't you have class?"

He kicked a kitten calendar off the foot of his bed and sighed, "No, I don't. Sadly."

Wheelie began to complain in Leo's ear, but he simply pushed him away and continued to mumble "FTJ" to himself. "Aww, missing your robo-buddies? I'm up to my neck in videos from that stuff in Egypt a year and a half ago, dude."

"Sounds like fun." Sam rolled over and stared out his bedside window. He began to fall asleep before his cell phone buzzed in his pocket and snapped him awake; he had a new text message. He flipped his phone open—it was from Optimus.

_"Come to the base."_

Sam had no idea how to get inside the new base; he didn't even know where it was. Thankfully, he had Sideswipe with him. The Stingray brought him out into the woods by the lake where a small shack stood. It looked pretty unstable, like it could fall on them any second. His Robert Downey Jr. friend winked at him and lured him inside the hut to the center of the floor. His blue eyes flickered and Sam heard a confirming beep from somewhere below.

The floor underneath him began to give way, and a section of the wooden boards broke apart and lowered.  
"An elevator?" Sam asked just to be sure.

Sideswipe nodded. "It can only be activated by an Autobot's energon signature. You won't be able to visit us anymore if one of us isn't with you. Sorry."

"Oh." The disappointment echoed in Sam's voice. To appear so ancient, the elevator descended quickly into a dimly lit chamber where it slowed to a stop. Two glass doors remained sealed in front of them and Sam looked to Sideswipe for what to do next.

"Oh right. Sorry, I'm still new at this." Sideswipe said. He bent over to a small panel by the door where a tiny camera quickly scanned one of his eyes. A chirp from the system echoed through the speaker and the doors slid open. The next room was much taller, the ceiling being about fifty feet high or so, and had a little more lighting than the one before. Sideswipe no longer looked like his famous counterpart, now standing at fifteen feet tall clad with Cybertanium arm blades. He was still shorter than Bumblebee and couldn't frighten Sam even if he tried.

"I hate all this procedure crap." Sam heard him mutter. "Optimus wants us to be checked for bugs every time we come in. Secrecy and confidentiality and all that."

After about five minutes, the next door opened (which was certainly tall enough for an Autobot to go through) and Sideswipe led Sam into a room that resembled a conference hall. There was a large table in the center, with an enormous chair at the head. Eight other chairs surrounded the table, the bigger ones toward the head and the smallest at the end. A door was on either side of the room across from one another. Sideswipe led him towards the right door, but Sam stopped him.

"What's past that door?" Sam asked pointedly.

Sideswipe looked over his shoulder at the other insanely large door and chuckled. "That's the way to the research bay and ammunition storage. Ironhide and Ratchet's playgrounds. This door goes to the Ratchet's medical ward and our recovery rooms."

"What does Optimus need anyway?" Sam continued to press Sideswipe for answers.

The Stingray didn't look very happy when he responded. "Well...he, uh, needs to talk to you about something."

Sam could tell that he was lying. Sideswipe was a terrible liar. After being led through a few more doors and empty rooms Sam thought weren't even being used, he was brought into a hall where all the Autobots awaited their arrival. Well...everyone except Ironhide, who Sam hadn't seen or really talked to since the events back in Hawaii. They were all in robot form, definitely using the tall ceiling to their advantage in Sam's mind. Bumblebee seemed upset and when Sam came in, his optics suddenly became interested in his feet.

"So what did you need? You texted me, right?"

"Sam, I'm concerned for your safety. This past year has been...quiet; too quiet." Optimus said, his rich voice melting Sam's insides. "The Decepticons haven't done anything in a while—I fear that they may be planning something much more dangerous. If they try to target me again, they will most likely focus on you as well."

"Okay, and? You guys have handled them before. Why is it such a problem now?" Sam asked, not bothering to look at Optimus. Even as a thirty foot tall robot, Sam's heart missed a beat when he stood face to face with the Autobot leader.

"Bumblebee has received many injuries while being your guardian. I believe it is in his best interest, as well as yours, that you receive a new protector."

He didn't see that coming whatsoever. Sam felt anger welling up inside. "What! What make you think that?"

"Sideswipe is knowledgeable in almost every single form of martial arts on Cybertron and returns from every battle unscathed. The others and I agree that he would be able to guarantee your safety in any situation. Bumblebee needs more practice, more training. Maybe after a few years with Ironhide, Bumblebee can be your guardian again." His voice remained calm although he could tell that Sam was getting angry.

"No." Sam spat. "No, no, no! I don't want another guardian, Optimus! I want Bumblebee!"

"You don't understand how fatal the situation may become, Sam. If we lose you..."

"No, Prime. I understand perfectly how serious things may get. Bumblebee has protected me up until now; I'm not dead, am I? Then he's doing a good job! I'm not willing to change up guardians. Sorry to turn down your offer."

"Sam." Optimus called in that same tone that Sam found difficult to resist. Somehow, he had the ability to ignore it. "Bumblebee has sustained too many injuries, requiring too many repairs. You've almost died in several battles. We—"

"I don't want to hear any more of this. I'm going back to school." Sam growled, turning towards the door.  
"At least let Sideswipe drive you." Ratchet suggested. Sam was too angry to consort with any of the Autobots—they had all decided this together? For some reason, he felt betrayed. Optimus sighed. He had a feeling Sam would take it badly. Bumblebee warbled guiltily.

"No thanks, I'll walk. See you guys later."

None of them seemed to make an effort to stop him as he stormed out.


	5. Filthy mouth, no excuse

Author's Note: Sorry, this is a pretty slow chapter. Self-resolution moment! D:  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Transformers, or Sam Witwicky, or any other characters. I just own this story.

--------------------

He realized, once he got to the conference hall, that he wouldn't be able to get out without an Autobot. Sam cursed under his breath. He didn't want to have to go back in there and ask one of them to escort him out. For a few minutes he stood alone quietly and leaned up against the large table.

"You need out, right?" A voice spoke. Sam turned to face Ironhide who was polishing one of his guns with a white rag. He didn't seem very happy, and Sam didn't want to say anything that may upset him. He was holding a gun after all. "I heard everything that went on in there."

"Yeah. I do." Sam answered, ignoring the second bit. Ironhide shoved his pistol back into the holster on his hip and walked past Sam, who didn't follow. Once he got towards the entrance chamber door, he looked back over his shoulder, "Well, are you coming or not?"

Sam trailed behind the Vin Diesel doppelganger, who silently led him through the way he'd come. Of course, as Optimus demanded it, Ironhide had assumed his robot form for scanning. Once they got to the elevator, Ironhide instructed Sam to stand on the platform and he'd activate the optical scanner.

"You be careful getting back by yourself." He said as the elevator began to ascend. Was he...concerned for Sam? Sam thought he was furious with him so why was he helping him? He didn't question it. The Witwicky boy nodded at the GMC autobot.

The elevator brought him back into the rickety old shed and stopped. Sam emerged into the forest and realized it was nearing dark. He'd had a bad history with things that went bump in the night. Reluctantly, he pulled up his collar against a cold breeze and set out back towards his college.

The Harrison Street Bridge was still in construction from the weeks before so Sam had to find another way to get back, which meant going the long way around. His cell phone rang several times but he ignored it. It was probably Optimus trying to check up on him, make sure he got home safely. Unfortunately, Sam had a horrible sense of direction. He ended up taking Tiger Lane from Harrison and followed it all the way down to the end where it met with Washington Road. Thankfully, the Washington Bridge over Carnegie that led back to Princeton wasn't under construction.

As he traveled over the bridge, he stopped and attempted to scan the black waters of the lake. There didn't seem to be any evidence that an alien battle had happened. They explained the destruction of the adjacent bridge as "poor structuring caused a collapse of the street". Oh, the lies the government spouted. No matter how much 'poor structuring' there was, they couldn't explain the patches of missing trees by energon blasts and the Megatron leg sitting at the bottom of the lake.

By the time he finally got onto the campus, it was pitch black outside. Sam had purposefully taken his time getting back so that he could cool off—he didn't want to lash out at any of his roommates catching him at a bad time. He began to regret getting that ride that Ratchet offered; he would've been willing had it been Bumblebee or Jolt. But it was too late to do anything now and Sam was just wasting energy thinking about what he _could've _done. The lights in his dorm room were off; were they all out or just asleep? He didn't care. They'd woken him up on several occasions before.

Sam pulled the door to his room open, "Hey guys, I'm back."

There was smoke in the air and giggles coming from the back room, where all the computers were. He shook his head disappointedly and flopped down onto his bed. One of Leo's friends must've brought in reefer and some desperate ladies again. Not that Sam was interested; he never got involved when they did that.

"They're freakin' smoke stacks in there, man! But the ladies they got ain't too bad neither." Wheelie reported. Sam didn't respond. It wasn't much of his business what they did when they weren't geeking out over . "Hey, you listening to me?"

Sam reached under his pillow and pulled out Bumblebee's iPod, BOSE headphones included. His guardian gave it to him back when he was recovering from the bridge incident and he never remembered to get it back. He put the headphones over his ears, thankful for being unable to hear the RC anymore, and began to play rock until it lulled him to sleep.

Several monotonous weeks passed before Sam even allowed contact with any of the Autobots. His yellow 2010 SuperSport Camaro was nowhere to be found; Sam wondered if he'd ever see Bumblebee again after what happened. He no longer became focused on the Transformers and actually got back to doing his school work he'd been shirking off over vacation. Optimus didn't show up to walk him to class anymore. Sam knew that if he did, he wouldn't want him to anyway.

Sam pulled his papers into one arm and began to walk back towards his dorm. He passed by Professor Dillamond's Trigonometry class on his way and, upon noticing she didn't have a class, decided to stop in.

He knocked on the door, "Hey...Dillamond."

The woman lifted herself from grading papers, her blond hair messily tied up in a bun. The stylish glasses she wore sat crooked on her nose. She welcomed him with a warm smile. "Oh, yes. Hello Samuel. It's been a while."

"Yes, it definitely has been."

"I remember you and Bee in the back of my classroom. You were always so sleepy." Her face turned into a frown, "Something seems to be bothering you. Are you all right?"

Sam had to admit: he was looking worse for the wear. He lied to his teacher though. "No, I'm fine. Just a little sleepy."

"Relationship problems?" She suggested. Sam guessed she wouldn't take no for an answer. Sam reluctantly nodded. She sighed. "They're the worst. How long have you two not been talking?"

"I never said that..." Sam began to say but she just laughed.

"Oh, Sam, I can tell it when I see it. There's no point trying to lie to me."

"About two months now. I've been ignoring calls." Sam tried to word sentences in his head first so that he didn't let "him" or "he" slip out.

"You know what, Sam?" Dillamond breathed out, grabbing onto his shoulder. "I think whatever this person's done to you, you need to just talk to them and work it out. They don't always say things you want to hear and knowing you, you get mad. But you need to sort these things out. Avoiding them isn't going to help anything."

What she said made sense. Sam was tired of ignoring him but he still didn't like Optimus' idea about changing his guardian. He nodded. He knew what he needed to do. "Thanks, Professor."

She shrugged it off. "No problem for an old student of mine. You be careful. It's a harsh world out there."

He waved her goodbye and headed back to his room to drop off his things.


	6. Find a new place to hang this noose

Author's Note: Awww....Optimus is so doting. :D  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any Transformer, or Sam Witwicky, or any other character. I own the story.

------

He threw his papers and books onto his bed, almost piling on top of Wheelie. The little blue RC car growled, "Hey, what gives?"

"Not now." Sam said. He went into the back room hesitantly, which smelled faintly of weed. They must've been smoking recently. Leo was on one of the computers, muttering FTJ to himself again. None of his other roommates seemed to be there. The Naruto poster on the back wall looked like it got attacked by peanut butter. Sam didn't want to know how.

"Hey, Sam, haven't seen you in a while. Not much for the party scene, eh?" Leo said, not taking his eyes from the screen. Sam didn't see what was so interesting about watching an upload bar. "We've gotten a few girls coming in here wondering if they can catch a time with 'Wasted Witwicky.'"

"What kind of nickname is that for me? You know I don't smoke."

"I know. I know. But word spreads around campus pretty fast. You always seem to mess yourself up in freaky Stephen King car accidents, dude. I guess they're hot for battle scars. Everyone wants to know what really happened to make you crack eighteen ribs and even break some of them." He jumped out of his seat. "YES! Robo-Warrior, your attempts are foolhardy! I got my video up before your stolen scrap ever made it to the web!"

Sam laughed. He and Simmons still seemed to be going at it, rivaling in who got their video up the fastest. He wondered how Simmons still had time to do that silly conspiracy website with all the work in his momma's deli shop. He was feeling better though—he had been ignoring his roommates for quite some time. Leo didn't seem to be bothered by it. Sam felt guilty though.

"Hey, how about we party tonight? Anything going on?" Sam felt like he needed to have a good time. Optimus could wait a couple hours.

Leo seemed a little surprised, but his flattering features pulled up into a grin. "Yeah, man! There's _always _a party when you're with me!"

It had been a while since he'd been to a college party. He had to confess, the times he'd spent with the Autobots recently had taken a serious toll on his school social life. There were streamers over the door and people stood outside, chatting and sipping their beer. He looked around to be sure; no yellow Camaro to come parading into the bushes this time. Sam hardly recognized faces as they entered. He followed Leo in like a lost puppy and found a chair when he grew too embarrassed of his roommate's dancing.

Leo came bounding towards him, two red plastic cups in his hands. "C'mon, dude, lighten up!" How many drinks had he had already? Surely they hadn't even been there for more than an hour.

He took the drink and smiled, hoping Leo would walk away to some unsuspecting girls who would hopefully humor him. He despised beer. Just the smell of it made his stomach churn. The stereo began to play "I Got A Feeling" by Black Eyed Peas and Sam jumped to his feet. He couldn't resist the urge to dance. He loosened up quickly after he got out on the dance floor.

The pounding music and flashing lights made him forget that he had any worries and before he knew it, he had actually downed a cup of beer. He felt great. The last party he'd been to ended with a girl climbing out of his car, covered in some sort of fluid. Thank god this one wouldn't end that way.

"Hey, is this your phone?" Leo asked, his words slurred into one another so that it sounded like "'Eyy isssizz yer fon?".

Sam wasn't drunk, thankfully. He didn't think he was really buzzed either. He took the phone from Leo (who's hands were sticky from something) and checked to see who was calling him. It was Optimus. "Leo, I'll be right back."

He stood outside the party, his phone pressed to one ear and his hand on the other. "Hello?"

_"Sam? Where are you? Why haven't you picked up all this time?"_

"I've...been a little busy. I'm at school." He felt a little slur coming onto his words though. He'd only had...three beers? God, he was a lightweight.

_"What are you doing?" _Optimus sounded worried.

"Just hanging out with some friends." Someone pushed past him nude and ran across the lawn, shouting about giant robots taking over the world. It looked like one of his roommates, although he didn't have the ability to recognize them from their asses.

_"Sam, what exactly are you doing?"_

"Just having fun." Sam said curtly. Optimus really shouldn't stick his nose into his business the way he did.

_"Who are you with?"_

"Leo." Sam answered. Leo _was _somewhere inside, probably making an idiot of himself.

_"Have you been drinking?" _

It was twenty questions. Sam growled in annoyance, "Not really. What do you need?"

_"I haven't spoken to you in two months and yet you sound so eager to hang up on me. I've been worried about you, Sam. I'm sure that people who are in a relationship together for over a year on your planet don't ignore phone calls for weeks on end." _Optimus' concern was genuine. Sam was a little tipsy though, so he didn't seem to care much. _"You were okay walking by yourself, right? I wanted to come after you but Ratchet said to stay put."_

"Yeah, just a little dark out." Sam replied. "And I haven't been answering because I lost my phone. I'm sorry I'm a bad boyfriend." Lying seemed to come naturally to him.

_"Sam...you sound drunk." _It wasn't a question. He was stating the obvious. _"Sam, what if something bad happened? What if Megatron decided to strike right now and you are the way you are? You could walk straight into a trap and you wouldn't know any better."_

Sam didn't think the conversation would take the turn it did. "It's called having a little fun, Optimus. Chill out."

_"You won't be having fun when you're being examined on a Cybertronian autopsy table."_

"Why are you making such a big deal about it?" Sam's words were coming out before he had time to think on it, "I'm in college. Parties happen. You wouldn't understand that. Thanks for your concern but your little boytoy can take care of himself."

_"I'm worried about your safety and your health. If you won't care about yourself, then I'll care enough for the both of us. I'm coming over."_

"No, you aren't." Sam said firmly. "I don't need you here right now. I'm trying to relax with some friends and you're sucking the fun out of everything. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Calm down."

_"Sam, I—"_

"I love you Optimus. Bye." He didn't wait for an answer before he shut his phone, ending the call. Leo stumbled out and slammed a hand onto Sam's shoulder for support. He was staggering, "'Eyy dude...need a drink?"

Sam just laughed. He might as well make the night as fun as possible. "Sure." He wouldn't hear the end of it from Optimus in the morning anyway.

_"I love you Optimus. Bye." _The signal faded out into static. A soft sigh echoed. Optimus voice muttered "_I love you too." _before Soundwave lost all connection to the call. Megatron's Communication Officer remained connected to a US satellite, orbiting Earth in search of intercepting some sort of information that could help the Decepticons.  
"Transmission received from Optimus Prime to Samuel Witwicky." His voice was gravelly, deep, and menacing. Soundwave had found a way to intercept cell phone calls as well over the year he spent connected to a satellite. His red optics scanned over Earth's surface, pinpointing the source of the call. "Must report to Lord Megatron. Shall proceed with Phase Two."


	7. String me up from atop these roofs

Author's Note: And so Sam awakens with an Autobot-sized hangover. AHAHA--Aww. ._.; Yeah. This is where stuff gets interesting. Forgive me if it's short. I liked where I ended it. :D  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters, blah blah blah.

--------------

"Ugh...God..." Sam groaned as he forced himself to sit up. His head ached like he'd been hit with a meat cleaver and his vision was blurred. Light peeked through the windows, helping Sam see the surrounding chaos he awoke to. Leo was across the room, collapsed in a chair with drool trailing from the corner of his mouth. Cups, overturned furniture, and sleeping drunks were scattered all throughout the room. What a night, Sam thought as his hangover only worsened when he stood. His pants were covered in cake icing and pizza sauce; what exactly had he done last night after that sixth beer? Come to think of it, where was his shirt anyway?

After a couple minutes of searching and trying not to disturb any cranky party-goers, Sam found his top in the kitchen, floating at the top of a barrel of beer that nobody had bothered to chug. After wringing out his shirt as best he could in the sink, Sam felt that he needed to return to his dorm for a change of clothes. And a few Advil for his splicing headache.

"Jeez, look what the cat dragged in." Wheelie commented as Sam stumbled dizzily into the room. His hand rubbed his temple comfortingly, "Not now, Wheels, I have one hell of a headache."

"Looks like you had one hell of a night too."

Sam grabbed his things and went down the hall to take a nice hot shower. After washing up, he changed into fresh clothes and returned back to his room. It sure took off the liquor smell and seemed to help his horrible hangover a little bit. Sam ignored any more remarks coming from under Wheelie's breath and relaxed on his bed after taking a couple painkillers.

He meant to make up with Optimus, not make matters worse. Sam remembered everything he had said the night before when he _obviously _wasn't thinking straight. He hoped that Prime wouldn't be too upset with him. If he just called at a better time—not when Sam was trying to just have fun. It wouldn't have been a problem. It was Optimus' fault. Then again...Sam shouldn't have been so short with him. He was just worried about him. Sam _was _the one who was ignoring all of his calls. And he didn't _have _to answer that time either. Guilt, Sam's all-too-familiar companion, began swallowing his mind. He should apologize. He needed to apologize.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, causing him to jump slightly. Who could possibly be texting him at 10 AM? It was Optimus again. Sam remembered the last time Optimus had texted him with bad news. He hesitantly opened the message.

_"I need to talk to you alone. Meet me at the Princeton Battlefield after dusk. –Optimus."_

The last time he'd been there, that whole fight with the Decepticons had happened. Sam hadn't seen it since. But why there...and why after dark? Sam didn't feel like replying to RSVP or anything; he'd be there. He needed to talk to Optimus anyway.

Optimus sat in the head chair in the conference hall, his head hung over. He'd already done his training with Ironhide and gotten his daily inspection by Ratchet. All he really wanted to do was see Sam again. Headquarters was no longer cheery without Sam's visits; Bumblebee seemed down most of the time even when he was forced to do combat with 'Hide for practice. Sideswipe came and went, often not returning until the early morning with some insane stories about some "human females he'd met at the bar downtown". Prime didn't have much to do without any Decepticon threats and NEST was abnormally quiet.

The thing that really bothered him was the way Sam had spoken to him on the phone. He only called to make sure that he was okay. After the first week of no response, Optimus insisted on checking up on him but the other Autobots refused to let him go, claiming that Sam was a big boy and that he could take care of himself for a while. Six more silent weeks passed and Prime longed for his human companion again. And when he finally got in contact with him, Sam didn't even seem like he wanted to talk. The very thought made Optimus' Spark overload his receptors with pain.

His cell phone, demanded for each Autobot to have one by Jolt, buzzed with a text message. He scooped it up and read the message.

_"We need to talk. Alone. Meet me in the Princeton Battlefield park after nightfall, okay? –Sam." _

Optimus seemed relieved. He needed to see that Witwicky boy again. He wasn't sure how much longer his circuits would last without him.

Sam strolled alongside the street that ran past Princeton Battlefield Park. He'd gotten dropped off by a taxi a bit before dusk because he didn't want to walk in the dark. But just in case, he had brought a flashlight with him. In his other hand was a present, wrapped in a red ribbon, that Sam intended to give to Optimus as an apology. Prime was late, as always. The Peterbilt drove himself and arrived clad in thirty-foot tall robot armor. Sam guessed he didn't feel like being Christian Bale today.

Optimus kneeled down to him, his optics bluer than usual. "Sam."

"Hey." Sam's cheeks turned red. "So, you said you needed to talk to me."

"...I never said that. You said you needed to talk to me."

"What?" Confusion filled his voice. He completely forgot about the present he was holding. "But you sent me a text message saying..."

"Well, you sent _me _a text message saying that—"

"Then who..." Sam mumbled.

"Then _how..."_

They both grew quiet and stared at each other for a moment, confusion in their eyes. That confusion quickly turned into realization on Optimus' face. His metallic features twisted into shock and anger. "Sam, quick, get down!"

For Sam, it took another second or two for him to figure it out. It had to be a trap. A Raptor and a Jet flew overhead, opening fire on the two. Optimus jumped to Sam's side, taking every bullet aimed at the poor human. The two crafts landed in front of Optimus, the barrels of their cannons whining with energon. Sam heard the "whoop whoop" of a police cruiser's siren from behind him. Shit! There was nowhere he could run this time. The Mustang advanced on them standing at eighteen feet tall at his shoulders.

"Not going to move, Prime? Wouldn't want your fleshling to get hurt, would you?" Megatron's vicious voice pounded in Sam's ears. He was backed up against Optimus' leg at that point.  
They were cornered. There was nowhere else to go. They'd walked straight into a trap. The Decepticons had this planned from the very beginning. Optimus shifted slightly behind Sam, causing him to stumble. His voice was low, urgent. "Sam...when I move, you run. Is that clear?" Sam didn't answer; his voice was lost from fear. "Go, Sam! NOW!"

Optimus pulled two guns from his back and fired at the two Decepticons as he ran at them. Sam went in a different direction entirely, hoping that he could maybe outrun Barricade. But he knew better. He'd been through this before. They must've expected Prime's plan from the very beginning. Megatron and Starscream retaliated with high-heat sabot rounds (how they'd gotten them, Sam didn't have a clue) that pierced Optimus' armor like it was tissue paper. The Autobot groaned and stumbled backwards, oil ran down his chest from the open wounds. "You...were waiting for the perfect moment to strike, weren't you, brother?"

"When the opportunity arises, who am I to decline? You shouldn't have gotten so attached to this planet, to that _fleshling._" Megatron's voice hissed the last word in disgust. He approached Optimus, firing two more sabot rounds that went ripping through his legs. Sam kept running, not daring to look back when he heard a scraping of metal and a thud that made the ground shake. Optimus.

"Barricade, secure the human. Stop playing around!" Starscream spat.

Optimus voice echoed in the surrounding forest, "No! Sam!" He could only gaze as the Ford Mustang cruiser went rushing at the human with a taser as if he were a cat chasing a mouse. There was no way he'd be able to get out of the way in time. In a flash of electricity, Sam's body twisted and lurched as it fell to the earth. Megatron cackled malevolently as Barricade sloppily handled his body into the cab of the cruiser. Optimus couldn't move. He couldn't do anything. His optics shut tight; the stacks on either shoulder hissed with steam.

"Don't worry. He won't die...yet. That taser will only paralyze him for a while." Megatron saw his brother's optics burn into his with hatred. "And now, that leaves only the problem of you, Prime."

"What exactly do you plan to do with me? Leave the boy out of this." Optimus growled through gritted teeth.

"Oh, you'll see in due time, brother. I have a score to settle with you."

Optimus wasn't sure what happened after that. Megatron must've overloaded his energy tanks. A horrible pain went surging through every circuit in his body, ripping through all of his armor. His vision went black and soon after, his entire system became numb and shut itself down.


	8. Knot it tight so I won't get loose

Author's Note: My apologies for this; I know I try to update every day and this one is horrendously longer than any other chapter THUS FAR but, yeah. I've had school work to do among other things (like trying to figure out Starscream and Barricade's sythoplasm appearances for one) so I proudly present one of the most gruesome things I've ever written. Enjoy. :]

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any Transformer, or Sam Witwicky, or any other minor characters.

-------------

How long had it been since Sam had been tased? He didn't remember; the seconds melted into minutes; the minutes into hours. Barricade had released some kind of gas into the cab of the cruiser which was probably to subdue him when the paralysis wore off. Whatever he used, Sam felt light headed, sleepy, numb. His mind was barely functioning—using energy only to keep him breathing and his heart pounding. What the hell did they do to him? What was in that gas? Sam couldn't help but inhale more of it; as if each breath slowed down his bodily functions gradually. His vision went hazy and, despite Sam's thoughts to stay awake inside the enemy car, his body allowed his sleepiness to get the best of him.

Optimus Prime's optics weren't online yet. His sight was pitch black, but his audio receptors were working properly. The surrounding area sounded...vacant, abandoned. Prime heard the dripping of water in the distance, like someone had forgotten to turn the tap off completely. His systems weren't starting up as fast as they usually did. He turned his head in an attempt to hear better; a faint footstep, a tumbling of a stone, anything. The blackness of his vision made him uneasy. The rest of his body's feeling began to set in, the cold numbness finally leaving him. His arms were...suspended over his head, tied up in thick chains as were his feet. He tested his strength against the binds; they didn't budge.

"They're Cybertronian metal, reinforced with energon. Even you, with all your power, couldn't possibly break them." The voice seemed louder to Optimus without his optical vision. It dripped with hatred or was it pure satisfaction? Megatron must've enjoyed seeing Prime reduced to this—a simple toy hanging around, waiting for its final verdict that decided its fate. He heard a deep chuckle, the kind that would make a child wake up from a nightmare. It sounded menacing, horrid, and breathy. Optimus pulled against the chains again, trying to pull himself down from the exposing position that he was sure his sibling reveled in.

"Where's Sam, Megatron?"

"Your optics won't be on for another few minutes. Who knows where that boy could be?"

"Don't toy with me, brother." He seemed to still have the strength to make threats, if anything else. The chains began to dig into his wrists, putting strain on the wires there that sent quick jolts of pain to Prime's receptors. He stopped fighting and stood still, seemingly weak and defeated. He needed to conserve his energy, he told himself.

"I believe you need to start worrying for yourself, Prime." The voice seemed to retreat back into the safety of the darkness, further and further away from the captive Autobot leader. The silence that followed made Prime anxious; worried. His blindness irked him—it made his exposure too real, too inviting for any dangers that lurked nearby. Where was Sam? His visual sensors were restored to him slowly, as Megatron had said. It took several minutes for his sight to return completely.

He was inside an empty building, presumably what used to be a warehouse. The assembly lines and smaller sections had long been stripped and hauled away, and the only thing left was the concrete floor and walls that had its windows broken long ago. Single panes remained, allowing moonlight to filter through to the ground below. Not much got through though; the windows were small and made it difficult to see the large room that surrounded him with dark shrouds. A makeshift throne from scrap metal sat not too far off, its seat vacant. Megatron, no doubt. He looked above and saw that the chains were linked to the ceiling and, to ensure they wouldn't break, also had supports connected to the wall behind him.

Once his processors had taken in his surroundings completely, Optimus stared straight forward with disbelief. Sam was across the vast space, bound in the same fashion as he was only with rope, his arms up above his head. The rope was connected to a rafter higher up that could be used to tighten or draw in the cord; Optimus began to wonder if the Decepticons had some sort of use for it in the future. His tied feet barely skimmed the cold floor and his head hung downward, not facing Prime. He must still be unconscious; human beings, unlike Transformers, tired so easily and had many weaknesses that Optimus did not. Sam looked extremely fragile in this position, his thin limbs pulled to their fullest extents unwillingly.

"Sam...wake up." Optimus whispered. His voice sounded unusually soft, pleading. "Sam. Please..." But there was no response. His human companion remained still, unmoving, almost as if he were dead. Deep inside its chamber, Optimus felt his Spark twist with pain.

Talons clawed their way through the darkness that surrounded Sam's lifeless body and held tightly on either side of his face. A voice came rushing from the blackness, "Oh, what a pity, isn't it fleshling? How easily broken the two of you are."

Prime's servos hitched slightly, each piece his armor rattling against one another. The Cybertronian chains clinked together softly, almost like chimes in the wind. "Megatron, stop it. What did you do to him? Why isn't he waking up?" The leader began to activate his internal radio, perhaps get something out to Ratchet or Ironhide or the Twins; anyone who would listen to his distress signal. His audio receptors screeched in response and Optimus groaned, trying to silence the horrible noise.

"Optimus calling for help? That won't do at all, brother. Soundwave is monitoring this place; he's cloaking the fleshling's heat signature as well as your location from the other Autobots. And he's blocking all signals that you might try to send." Megatron said smugly, his voice grating and raspy. "Humans are so easily deceived by faces that look like their own; willing to believe anything that comes out of their mouths. Of course, there were those hospital parasites that were suspicious of us that we couldn't allow to live. We needed to obtain what we went for and they refused to stay out of our way. They were...so easily taken care of. They made such a mess though."

Optimus growled. His neuro-grid was working as fast as it could to come up with some escape, some solution to the situation that they were in although to no avail.

The claws framed Sam's face, lifting its blankness so that Optimus could see.

"He's not dead. We acquired some pharmaceuticals from a hospital that will keep him unconscious for now. Starscream gave me something else, morphine I believe, for him as well, although I'm not exactly sure what it does. We'll just have to wait and find out, won't we?"

"Stop touching him, Megatron." The Peterbilt said, holding his anger back as best he could. The long talons pulled away from Sam's empty face, leaving a large gash on his right cheek but still not waking the boy, as they disappeared back into the shadows. His face still looked peacefully flat, no hint or sign of emotion whatsoever. The blood trickled down his ivory skin and fell onto the green tee-shirt he was wearing, staining him with crimson.

Optimus had no idea where his brother was, or the two assistants to their capture; Soundwave was jamming his sensors, prohibiting his systems from locating any nearby Transformer. He was weak. Megatron was in control here; this was his domain.

"Seeing you this way absolutely thrills me, Prime." His brother replied, emerging tall from the shadows to assume his seat on his throne. Optimus' optics followed him as he went across the room, his sibling's hulking figure moving jerkily with each step he made. He had gotten upgrades, his glossy sepia armor thicker and bulkier than the last Optimus had seen of him. Prime analyzed each opening in the plates, each weak spot he found on his body, to use against him when and if he got free. "Maggots, the both of you."

"Where are the other two you had with you? Starscream and Barricade?" Optimus Prime asked with a level tone. He had to remain calm. Getting upset and using valuable energy was not an option in his logics system. He intended to outlast.

Megatron dropped into his seat unceremoniously, resting his head in one ferociously clawed hand, "Securing the perimeter. Can't allow you to escape. I have no concerns for the boy. If he somehow manages to get away, he'll be stopped without a problem."

"What do you want?"

His flaming red eyes scanned his brother and a small purr of satisfaction escaped his mouth. "Patience. When the boy wakes, I shall show you why you're here."

Sam's neck ached, sending horrible waves of pain throughout the rest of his body like an ocean. Where he'd been tased was still sore, reminding him where he was. He'd been captured. His face felt wet from sweat and...blood? He was bleeding? There was a trail of blood down the right side of his shirt; how long had that been there? Fire burned from his cheek, the freshly opened wound Megatron had caused, finally registering in his mind. His head pulsated, the woozy feeling from earlier wearing off now. Whatever drugs they had put into his system were long gone and the reality of his pain came at him full force.

He wanted to double over from the pain, the soreness, the aching. But his body wouldn't let him. His body felt numb from the waist down and his arms were pulled up above his head and tied roughly at recently bruised wrists, the rope ascending into rafters. Where was he? What happened after he had been forced into Barricade's cab? The light from the windows was scarce, reds and oranges of the sunrise barely reaching the sills. Sam squinted to see, hoping to see something he recognized so that he'd know where he was.

"Sam." Optimus said, beckoning through the shadows.

"O-Optimus!" Sam replied breathlessly. He wasn't alone. The Autobot leader stood across from him, his worn face illuminated by gentle blue optics.

"Sam, finally, you're awake." Optimus murmured, his voice soft. "I thought they had killed you...but you're okay. Sam, I—" He broke off. The sentence lingered in the stillness of the room.

They most certainly weren't alone. There was a rattle, a clunk, a terrifyingly menacing growl from somewhere in the vacant room. Sam couldn't tell the direction of the voice simply by hearing it; he felt blind. "Let the first day begin."

"Sam, don't let them win, do you hear me?" Optimus hissed quickly, pulling against the chains that bound him once more. "Don't give them the satisfaction."

"Optimus, what are you talking abou—" Sam's voice gave out, allowing a sharp gasp to take the place of words. Optimus' face jerked sideways, held by four long, sharp fingers snaking their way from behind the Peterbilt. They bore down onto sensitive wiring on Prime's neck, snapping some cords in half like pasta, and dented the metal that framed Optimus' face. Another hand began ripping away at the wires, decisively choosing which ones to pull and which to leave. Optimus remained stoic, not moving out from under the enemy's grip. Sam saw optics glisten behind Optimus' shoulder, ones that he instantly recognized to be Megatron's. The hands receded, slithering back to their owner. The Cybertronian tank came out from behind Optimus to stand and face him, obscuring Sam's view.

"You don't need these old things." Megatron concurred. He reached for the cannons on each of Prime's shoulders and ripped them off with a quick jerk. The Autobot's back arched, but he was silent. Not a single noise, or cry, or groan. Nothing. Sam could see Megatron chuckle to himself, his large form moving ever so slightly. Oil streamed down the red and blue flamed plates and windshields soon became drenched with the black copper liquid. A fist swung hard into Prime's lower torso, hitting him only inches away from his Spark chamber.

Optimus' repair systems filled his vision with diagnostics, only reiterating the damage Megatron was doing to him. After a few seconds, he turned the notifications off and tried to block out as much of the pain as possible. He managed to seal both oil valves that ran through his shoulders, ceasing the lost flow of precious fluid he might need later. Prime held his mouth shut, muffling any noise of agony his body begged him to release.

"Stop it!" Sam shouted. "Leave him alone! Optimus!"

Megatron ignored his words, not even turning to face his other captive. "Barricade, Starscream, deal with the boy. He's annoying. Besides, I want Prime to watch."

Two figures entered Sam's line of vision, both assuming human forms. The one on the left must've been Barricade—he had choppy layered (and somewhat spiky) black hair with a horizontal streak of white running on each side. His well built frame wore a police uniform shirt unbuttoned down the front, showing the white tee underneath, and matching uniform pants with an officer's utility belt, gun and taser included. He was several inches taller than Sam and twice his size when it came to muscles. His red eyes glowed against his skin and his mouth curled up to reveal pointy teeth.

Next to him was presumably Starscream. His facial shape was jagged and he was pale with beady crimson eyes that looked out of place. Dark brown hair sat atop his head, spiked and unkempt. Megatron's cohort wore a brown shirt under an old leather aviator's jacket and black denim pants with thick steel-toed work boots. Sam could've sworn he saw aviator's goggles on his head. Starscream's frame seemed stooped, resigned, almost as if he was a puppy that had been beaten too much. He wasn't as large as Barricade in size but outdid Sam by quite a bit; much like in his robot form, his torso was much bigger than the rest of his body in comparison.

As they grew closer, Barricade cracked his knuckles and smirked at his victim. He was a skilled interrogator, even if it came down to torture—Ratchet had told Sam this before. A fist went soaring into Sam's jaw, and then another. Blood trickled out of his mouth and nose as Sam pulled his head back up to face the black haired Decepticon. Starscream took his turn next, thrusting his knee into Sam's stomach. Sam hung over silently with the air knocked out of him. Three hits. He was already sore to begin with. Now he felt like total shit.

Sam spat blood that had accumulated in his mouth onto the concrete floor, which evoked a snort of smugness from Starscream. Maybe the drugs weren't completely out of his system after all. He felt his vision start to blur, until the two figures before him took on odd shapes and colors.

"Oh, no you don't." A deep voice grunted. Sam's sight came rushing back to him as the police officer grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled his head upright to keep him awake. "You're not passing out yet. We just started."

"Humans can only take so much before they block everything else out. They're such disposable creatures, so very useless." Megatron hissed into Optimus' audio receptor, steadily holding the Autobot's face so that he had to watch every instant of Sam's beating. The boy's body jerked this way and that as the officer and pilot had their fun, punching and kicking him as they pleased. Yet, just like Prime, not a sound was heard from the human. He remained quiet but Optimus was well aware of the pain he felt. Sympathy began to wash over him—that was the correct word for such emotions—as he could do nothing to stop the two Decepticons.

"Starscream, do something about his legs. We can't have him running off, can we?" Megatron barked at the aviator. There was no way Sam would be getting out of anything; why go through the unnecessary trouble? The pilot cringed from the order but resolution seemed to come to his face instantly as he rummaged nearby for something Optimus couldn't see.

"This'll work just fine." Starscream padded a metal rod in his hand, probably leftover scrap from when the warehouse functioned, and returned to Barricade's side. He heard a sharp _THWACK _and a brief scream of pain that echoed in the barren facility. Then another _THWACK _sounded_, _followed by another cry of horrifying agony. The two culprits laughed to each other as Starscream dropped the rod now covered in crimson. Prime pulled against his bindings, trying his hardest to reach out for Sam, to stop the enemy's assault, and discovered that the chains were stretched to their limits. So why couldn't he break them already? Steam hissed from the stacks on his shoulders and his servos started up with a loud whirring noise. A mischievous cackle echoed in his audio receptor. If only his arms weren't bound! His energon blade would've already silenced his brother, once and for all. Damn it.

Sam's legs were twisted at horrible angles and blood was already starting to seep through the denim fabric of his jeans. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness again, and then a shout of 'bring me a bucket'. Ice water was dumped on him, searing his wounds almost as if it was lemon juice, and brought the boy to full attention once more. They weren't going to let him black out.

Another punch, another kick; Sam couldn't help making noise anymore. He was weak—he knew he was. He was nothing like Optimus Prime. Every time Barricade and Starscream stopped, Sam hoped it was the end, his head bent in defeat as tears mixed with sweat and blood on his face. His head, his legs, his chest all ached with a scorching pain as if someone had lit him on fire. A fifth blow to his stomach, knocking what little air that was left out of him.

Starscream roughly grabbed Sam by his jaw, examining the damage on his face. A black eye, several cuts and gashes, a bloody nose, a busted lip, and the slash Megatron had left earlier.

"This'll be the end for now. I'm getting tired." Barricade remarked to himself, his husky voice almost unintelligible to the semi-conscious Sam. Before this, Sam didn't know that the Transformers could still access weapons from their robot forms. The officer's hand broke into hundreds of silver slivers and the human watched as they reassembled themselves into a spinning spike wheel. He'd seen it before, back when Bumblebee saved his (and Mikaela's) life from the Decepticon in the very beginning.

"Yeah, same here. This is hard work." Starscream breathed, his figure slouching from exhaustion. How long had they been doing this? Minutes? Hours? Sam didn't know. He couldn't tell anymore.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for it; the feeling he knew he only had seconds to prepare for. The wheel ran through the chest of his shirt and tore the fabric to shreds before slicing through his already scarred flesh. Witwicky tried to pull away as the spikes dug deeper, ripping through the top layers of skin as if they were nothing. He choked out a sob, trying to regain composure as the spike wheel continued to spin into his chest, seemingly unending. His skin was on fire, every inch of his torso burned with an intensity unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was unbearable.

"P-Please...s-stop..." Sam choked out between gasps and blood dripping from his lip. "E-enough...please..."

"Stop, Barricade. Don't go too deep. We wouldn't want him to bleed out." Megatron shouted vehemently. The spikes pulled away from the wound, revealing a gash about an inch and a half deep on the boy's chest. Soon after, Sam's body went limp and his head dropped. He finally blacked out, this time for a while. Starscream grudgingly wrapped a thick white cloth around his torso, covering the wheel wound efficiently. Optimus didn't get it. Why would they hurt him yet tend to his wounds? It didn't take long for him to find answers—to stop the blood flow; to make him last. They weren't done with him yet.

Optimus wriggled away from Megatron's grip, tearing his face out of his clawed hand vigorously. The Decepticon leader allowed this and began to walk back in front of his brother, eyeing the brutally battered mess of fleshling that was now hanging. Why do all of that to Sam? Why did he make Optimus watch? "You sick slagger."

He grew closer, so close that their chests touched and Optimus could feel Megatron's hot breath on his own face. "Oh, this is just the beginning, Prime. If you thought this was bad...just wait and see what's in store for you." A simple pluck of a wire, exposed on Optimus' neck, and his optics went black. Another pluck of a sensitive piece of wiring, this one closer to his chest, and all of his systems offlined.


	9. Truth is you can stop and stare

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry for the week of silence from me! I've been a little busy, still working on English summer assignments, and then my DSL decided to die for two days.  
BUT, here it is, new stuff. I had to separate it into two chapters because it was about 7000 words so I hope you guys are satisfied

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Transformers, or Sam, or anyone else.

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Sam woke from the overwhelming pain his body had experienced, now a painfully dull sting. The warehouse was dark, stars shedding little light through the windows, and Sam tried his best to make out the area. The throne was empty, thank god; he didn't know what he'd do if Megatron was waiting there, watching him as he awoke in a pained confused stupor. He looked down at his body tentatively to see the blurry shape of a white cloth, tied tightly around his middle. When did that get there? Sam began to feel light headed again, the blood loss just occurring to him.

That was only the first day, Sam told himself. He could only expect worse to come. How long did they plan to keep them here, mutilating their bodies until they're unrecognizable even to their owners? Oh, if only the Autobots knew they were here. No amount of shouting would get anyone's attention, Sam was sure of that. The Decepticons had chosen a remote, desolate hide out. They were going to die here, knowing his enemies. Sam was expecting that, at the very least. But there wasn't much he could do—Megatron had him tied up, left him hanging, and beat him. He couldn't do anything even if he _wanted _to. Sam bit his lip to stop himself from tearing up.

He was never going to finish college, never going to see his guardian again. Never going to have another awkward conversation with Ratchet or ignore his dormmates' weed parties or tell Wheelie to shut up. After the next day or two, he doubted that he'd ever get to see sunshine again. He sighed and murmured to himself, "Gang...we need you now more than ever."

Sam grew quiet, keeping himself busy with memories in his head. It didn't take long for embarrassing family holidays with Judy and Ron to pull him back into dreamland.

-

He awoke again, this time suddenly because he felt a horrible jab to his ribs. Sam stirred groggily, painfully, to see Starscream's disgustingly smug face. He was holding one of those metal pipes he'd found in a nearby pile, only this one had a jagged end that he'd used on Sam as an alarm clock.

"Get up, you meatsack." He commanded, prodding him again.

Sam winced, feeling very much like cattle in a herd. "Okay, OKAY. I'm up! Stop poking me with that stupid thing already!"

"Don't you talk to _me _like that, fleshling!" Starscream retorted with a swift steel-toed kick to Sam's already broken leg. Sam let out a whine. His legs didn't need anymore abuse; they were hurting enough already.

"Hey, keep that to a minimum, Starscream. You know Lord Megatron said he didn't want us doing much of that without him around." Barricade reminded him, in which Starscream replied with a snarl underneath his breath. Sam couldn't see the officer by just turning his head so he assumed he was elsewhere, out of view. "If you want to risk your head, then feel free to keep on kicking the shit out of that thing."

It was well into the morning when Starscream decided to wake Sam up. He could see around a little bit better, although he saw little point in knowing his surroundings. He wouldn't be moving an inch from where he was anyway. His only concern was Optimus, limp across from him. His eyes were empty, reminding Sam of the time where he had to watch life leave his body.

"Optimus?" He asked. Megatron's lackey, who was taking the blood soaked bandage off of his chest, snorted another chuckle. Starscream went away, out of Sam's vision for a moment, and returned with a fresh cloth. His chest must've still been bleeding, at least a little. He already felt nauseous so he didn't want to bother himself with looking down at the gaping hole Barricade had made.

"Lord Megatron wants him offline until he gets back. Not like he can turn himself on right now anyway, not with the wires Lord Megatron pulled." He responded simply, adjusting the bandage so tight that Sam couldn't breathe comfortably. Barricade was nearby, sitting in a broken window's sill looking outside in the daylight. Keeping watch, Sam thought. What would there be to keep watch for? The Autobots had no idea where they were. He supposed they couldn't be too careful though. They'd been beaten too many times for being careless.

"Starscream, don't talk to it. It doesn't need to know anything from us."

The aviator shot a dirty glance out of the corner of his eye to the police officer, muttering something in Cybertronian to himself (that Sam thought sounded pretty hateful).

"Have you fed it?" Barricade asked distantly. "Megatron said humans require sustenance if they're to stay alive. I don't think it's had anything to eat or drink since we caught it."

"All right, I heard you." Starscream began to shuffle away for something, probably something disgusting he was going to force Sam to eat. Did they even know what food was?

"Stop calling me it." Sam retorted rather indignantly. "I'm a living thing. I'm a guy and I have a name—it's Sam Witwicky."

"You're just username Ladiesman217 to me. I really don't care if you're a living thing; you won't be much longer."

Sam felt his stomach churn and his heart sink. He had been expecting death, in fact, he awaited it. But hearing Barricade confirm his expectations made his will to live dwindle a little. He felt his worries building up in his throat, several questions he wanted to ask, but he forced them back down. They didn't need a reason to kill them. The fact that they had the power and were going to was enough for him.

Starscream returned with a bottle of water and something in a can; tuna? He was muttering again, probably complaining about how he had to feed the 'fleshling' or something along those lines. He opened the bottle with a crack of the lid and Sam suddenly realized just how thirsty he was. His mouth felt like sandpaper and his stomach was barren; that water bottle looked really good in all of two seconds.

"Open your trap." Starscream commanded and Sam did as he was told. In a matter of seconds, Sam had gulped down the entire bottle ravenously. After quenching his thirst, the F-22 threw the bottle aside with a clatter of plastic. He seemed to have a hard time figuring out how to open the can though; after a while, he used a sharp metallic finger to rip it open. Sam hated tuna. He hated all fish; but when you're hungry, tastes didn't really seem to have much say in the matter. It had only been a day or two, but Sam hadn't eaten since before that frat party thanks to his hangover. Starscream emptied the contents into Sam's mouth lazily, not really caring if pieces of meat missed and fell to the floor. It wasn't very much, but Sam's tummy was happy for what little it could get. "There, Barricade, happy? Since you apparently don't want to do anything but sit over there and bark orders at me."

Barricade huffed a silent response and resumed gazing out of the window.

There was a crash and chunks of the ceiling came shooting down, pieces the size of bricks barely missing Sam. Not that he'd be able to dodge them anyway. He didn't even realize that he had screamed from the surprise of it all. When the dust and rubble subsided, Sam saw that Megatron had landed poorly in the center of the warehouse, changing shape from a Cybertronian Jet/tank back into his robot form. There was a hole about the size of a blimp in the roof when Sam got a chance to look.

"Way to bring the whole roof down, you slagging scrapheap." Starscream mumbled angrily under his breath, his back to the lord of the Decepticons. Sam's heart was sinking into his stomach. If only the Autobots knew where they were; then maybe rescue was a possibility. Sam knew better though.

--------

Bumblebee dodged a shot from Ironhide and rolled into his side. He was bent over, exhausted; his hydraulics whined from the strain of his training. Bee held his training partner at gunpoint, the whirring of his cannon deafening. Ironhide chuckled, "All right, Bee, you got me. Good job. Let's call it quits for now."

Ratchet popped his head through the door of the training room, an expression of concern on his face. He was clad in his H2 Ambulance yellow armor, his optics hidden underneath furrowed brows, "Hey, has anyone seen Optimus? I can't seem to find him anywhere in the base."

"You mean he never came back from seeing Sam?" Bumblebee asked, his vocal processor still sounding a little screwy. Ratchet shook his head. Bee grew puzzled. "It's not like them to disappear without telling us where they're going."

Ironhide shrugged as he got up, sighing as he popped a plate on his hip back into place. "Big deal. We're fine without him for a couple days. I'm sure he'll turn up."

"And if he doesn't?" Ratchet asked. Ironhide grew quiet.

"I don't know. I bet he's just screwing Sam's brains out somewhere." 'Hide rudely remarked, crossing his arms. "He'll come back. Stop worrying."

Bumblebee flung a hand at the GM truck's face without a moment's hesitation. Ironhide touched his cheek lightly, shocked and confused at the sudden pain that overwhelmed his receptors.

"What's wrong with you? He's our leader and Sam's our friend! What if they're in trouble and we don't know it?"

A silence lingered between the two of them as Bee relentlessly stared into Ironhide's optics enraged. Ironhide pursed his metallic lips and made a noise that resembled someone clearing their throat. "Fine. If they're not back by morning, we'll start searching. I'm sure they're fine, though."

--------


	10. Run myself out and no one cares

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, here's part two. I'm sorry it took so long, once again. I had to research a couple things for this part, but I hope it does some good for you guys. More to come!  
Now I need to go take another shower. .____.; I feel nersty.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Transformers, or Sam Witwicky, or any other minor characters.

---------

"Well, it would appear that one of our guests is already awake." Megatron said in his raspy voice. Sam held his breath, cringing slightly when the Decepticon acknowledged his presence. "I suppose I should help Prime turn on then."

It was one of the most interesting things to watch; a Transformer coming back to life. He'd seen it before, when he'd revived Optimus back in Giza, but this time seemed different. He had given Optimus his entire life again but here, Megatron seemed to have Prime's life in the palm of his hand. His spidery claw reconnected a wire in his neck and a sudden vigorous twitch ebbed through Optimus Prime's body. The first noise he made was pained, a moan of misery, as life breathed through his systems once more. The neon blue optics flickered to life and Prime pulled his eyebrows down far, straightening himself up the moment he got the chance. His arms rattled the chains and to Sam each link was about the thickness of his forearm. Still, his heart leaped the moment he saw the Peterbilt begin moving once more, even if his despicable brother stood in his line of view.

"Megatron." His voice was deep, angry. In fact, he sounded frighteningly furious.

"Optimus!" Sam shouted, his voice shrill with relief, but was quickly silenced as Starscream put the jagged pipe from before against his neck. He knew they weren't going to kill him; not so soon. But the horrible feeling of the cold metal pressing hard on his windpipe, limiting his ability to breathe, frightened him.

"Hello, Prime. I trust you're well rested." Megatron chortled, strolling away from his brother towards the center of the space between the captives.

"Why are you doing all this? Why not just kill us? You're prolonging it, brother," Optimus answered, rather shortly. Sam could see Optimus imagining ways to dispose of Megatron that matched the expression of pure rage on his face.

"Oh, in due time, I intend to collect. But here, at the end of your days, why not make you as miserable as possible? When I'm finished with you Prime, you're going to _wish _I killed you yesterday." He began to laugh at some inside joke that both Sam and Optimus were unaware of.

"You're pathetic. I'll take you all on. Just get these chains off of me and you'll see how miserable someone can be when _I _get my hands on you," Prime snapped. Sam watched as the chains were pulled taut, tugging at the very links connecting them to the walls. Optimus might not be able to break the chains, but he could certainly destroy their supports to the warehouse; concrete was hardly strong enough to keep Prime from breaking through.

Megatron replied in hearty Cybertronian at first but continued in English. "Such bold words from a captive, Prime. You haven't seen the worst of it yet, I assure you." He grew close again in three long strides of his bulky legs, pressing against Optimus' chest armor. "You're a fool, weakened by your affection for that miserable sack of flesh. You're worthless."

Sam couldn't see much from where he was. The red and blue figure of his beloved Autobot flinched behind Megatron, whose head was slightly lowered. The Decepticon dug his teeth into the wiring on the Peterbilt's neck, one of the most sensitive spots on a Transformer. Prime resumed his silent routine, his optics slightly shut almost as if he was wincing. It was typically supposed to be an exhilarating experience used only when two would bond, but Optimus was stubbornly refusing anything his receptors were telling him.

"You can't keep that up forever, Prime." Megatron growled into his audio receptor. "I will get something out of you by the end of all this."

"You can try, can't you?" Prime spat back. His face plate assembled itself over his mouth suddenly, making him look as defiant as ever. He cocked his head to the side, pulling his receptor away from Megatron's husky voice. The Decepticon chuckled at his hostage's efforts.

"Okay, stop!" Sam yelled, causing the tank to turn slightly in his direction. "Megatron, leave him alone, please! Don't hurt him!" He knew he was going to die anyway. "Please...don't do anything to him."

Barricade hopped down from his window to join the fray, placing himself next to Starscream at Sam's side. The Decepticon leader paused a moment, gazing over his shoulder as he contemplated the offer Sam had made. As Megatron turned and came towards Sam, he began to feel regret washing through him for speaking out.

"I'm still not sure if it's courage or fear that compels you. Are you begging, fleshling?" Megatron asked, his face abruptly close to Sam's. His optics were about half the size of Sam's face; terror overwhelmed him as he stared into them, his voice lost. He simply nodded, trying to swallow his fear to no avail. The Cybertronian Tank growled again, turning to his sythoplasm-garbed lackeys. "Both of you, keep Prime at bay. I'll take care of this one."

Oh god, Sam thought. The police officer and aviator both looked at each other skeptically but did as they were told and went to Prime's side, transforming from six foot tall humans to their robot appearances mid-stride. Megatron's claw lightly ran over the slash on his cheek, a purr erupting from deep inside his chest. "So unwise to give yourself to me for Prime's sake. I'll make sure you regret it."

It was frightening to see the thirty four foot tall mech morph into a human right before his eyes. It didn't look graceful, beautiful, like when Optimus would change. It was grotesque, horrifying. Silver liquid dribbled down from his optics as if he was bleeding, and armor shifted into itself, jutting out at disgustingly painful looking angles. Megatron said something in Cybertronian, but Sam was lost in thought. Claws pulled inward, large plates of metal became nonexistent. His size shrunk almost immediately after his figure became drowned in the platinum liquid. It was like watching someone melt a Barbie—the face was always the first to go. Once he was at a human size, it didn't get much worse. The silver retreated from his scalp, revealing dark brown hair worn messily, and down his cheeks to his jaw. The liquid drained from the figure rather instantaneously and the man before Sam grinned evilly, the same terribly sharp teeth adorning the inside of his mouth. He was still taller than Sam (wasn't everyone?) and much more muscular, even than Barricade. Sam recognized his sythoplasm form; he familiarly resembled Hugh Jackman, the man who played Wolverine from the X-Men movies. His eyes glistened with fire though and he seemed to adorn the same superpower—sharp talons on his tanned hands. He wasn't wearing a shirt or any shoes. The only article of clothing he had on was loosely fitted dark blue jeans. Megatron had discovered his own personal appearance, unlike last time where he'd simply mimicked Optimus' form of Christian Bale.

Sam didn't get a chance to say or do anything before Megatron's lips crashed into his. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think quickly enough for a response. His mind was jumbled, like someone had destroyed an almost complete jigsaw puzzle. Megatron's tongue ravenously explored Sam's mouth, a whine of discomfort coming from the boy. He needed to breathe; he was dizzy, confused. He began to shake his head, hoping to force the Decepticon off. Thankfully, Megatron pulled back. His breath was already ragged as he began to bite along Sam's neck, feeling the trembling of the figure beneath him. A sear of pain shot through him as Megatron's teeth sunk into his shoulder, causing blood to gush from the fresh wound. Sam heard a groan of satisfaction from the Jackman doppelganger as his blood gurgled endlessly from the deep bite.

"O-Optimus...!" Sam whimpered. He took a second to catch his breath again. Optimus began to struggle against his chains again, but that's what Starscream and Barricade were for. They held onto him by his shoulders and pulled him back any time he would start towards Sam. Their strength collectively was enough to hold him back, despite all of his strength which had dwindled since their captivity.

Claws ripped through the front of his shirt and Megatron paused to stare at Sam's chest. He knew what he was looking at—all those scars, all those horrible pink and red marks that dotted his body from the last time Megatron had gotten hold of him. Sam turned his face away in shame as the Decepticon grinned at the damage he'd done. His fingers ran over each scar and traced the faint outlines of wounds long since healed. Sam's skin tingled at the Decepticon's cold touch, but he refused to accept that he enjoyed any of it. He was ashamed of his body, knowing that Megatron reveled in the sight.

"I remember these..." He said to himself, loud enough for Sam to hear. His hand traced the dark red mark on his shoulder, adorning his pale flesh with a curved scar, "This is where I bit you to stop your struggling..." His finger touched another spot, on his stomach, "And this one made you pass out..." His hand stopped on Sam's chest—a flawless spot over his heart, free of any scars. "But here...I must've missed a spot. That can be remedied." Megatron's finger dissolved into metallic pieces, a familiar knife-like appendage taking form instead. "This is going to be very painful, boy. Consider this...a memoir."

Sam was going to ask him what he meant but his voice had betrayed him again; remaining lost like it always did when he needed it the most. Megatron smirked as he dug the blade into Sam's skin and dragged it downward without hesitation. Sam didn't know what he was doing; what he was making in his skin. All he could feel was the fire burning his flesh away, ripping through him as it had done the day before. He wasn't aware that he was screaming, writhing underneath Megatron's knife, unable to hear Optimus calling his name. Is this how trees felt when young love-struck couples would carve their initials into the trunk and hoped it would remain permanent while the maple or oak could only sit silently and endure? Two more minutes passed, and Sam felt the icy touch as Megatron wiped the blood off of his new masterpiece and stood back to marvel. He needed to know what exactly was engraved on his skin. Sam's head dropped to look and immediately became nauseous at the sight.

The Decepticon insignia, about three inches tall and wide, was painfully marked on his skin now as blood still oozed down the rest of his scarred body. The very symbol of the enemy, the ones who were causing him so much pain and grief, was etched onto him forever. Megatron looked absolutely satisfied at his work but Sam was sure he felt bile coming up. His body ached, screamed, trashed; he felt like he was burning. The Decepticon licked the blood off his finger as it returned to its human state, "Fleshlings are so messy...so many fluids in their little bodies."

"D-Don't..." Sam pleaded softly, almost as if he were speaking a prayer, "N-no...Optimus..."

"There's no Optimus to protect you, boy. He can only watch as I make you my little play thing."

Optimus was enraged. His logics system was working itself into a frenzy, his processors were malfunctioning. He pulled against Megatron's lackeys, against the chains, against any force that might be holding him back. There was a faint noise of a wall cracking; was he actually doing some good? His optics gazed at the mark on Sam's skin and the only thing going through his systems was "kill, kill, kill." But he couldn't. Starscream and Barricade doubled his strength now, pulling back on his frame until the chains were limp and dangled loosely. He couldn't bear it. Sam. Optimus cursed himself—he was a horrible guardian, a terrible protector.

The human form of his disgusting brother encircled his beloved as he tugged the boy's pants down to his knees briskly, the denying cries from Sam as Megatron had his way with him. Sam whimpered, helpless as Megatron thrusted into him all while his flaming red eyes gazed at Prime defiantly. He was taking the only precious thing he had. He was _defiling _it. Ruining it. And he was making him watch. His fingers raked through Sam's skin as he screamed in pain, choked with sobs. Sam was a bloody mess, now worse than the day before. He looked no better than a dead carcass moving rhythmically against Megatron, crying with every vicious, vigorous motion in and out of his body.

"If you say my name, it'll hurt less, boy," Megatron instructed with a voice loud enough for Optimus to hear, panting incessantly. Sam hesitated, remaining silent for half a minute, but caved into the horrible feelings that tore at his body. Optimus glared at his brother, unfathomable rage filling his systems, as the Decepticon grinned when Sam would instead cry out his name, pleading, begging, hoping for the possibility that the pain would lessen. It did nothing for Megatron, of course, but he knew that it made Optimus angry and indeed it did. The human's voice called out a name that Prime never wanted to hear again in fear of going on a killing spree in uncontrollable anger. Sam's voice was for him and him only—how dare Megatron take _that _from him. After everything he'd already done.

Time and time again, Optimus watched as Megatron forced Sam's mouth onto his own, kissing him with an unreturned passion, lust, a strength that Sam no longer willed. The chances he got, when Megatron would pull away to allow him to get a breath so he wouldn't black out, Sam would call Optimus' name. It made Prime feel worse, knowing he couldn't answer the distress signal. Megatron enjoyed watching Sam plead for his hero; Optimus could've sworn he saw his brother's body shudder each time Sam would begin calling for him. He was sick. Barricade and Starscream seemed indifferent and held their ground on either side of the Autobot, pulling at his shoulders when Optimus would get a sudden burst of energy to rescue Sam.

Megatron's back arched upwards, and Sam let out a weak shriek. He pulled away, refastened his pants at his waist, seeming very satisfied with himself. He often glanced at Optimus, expecting a new reaction, a new emotion on his face and he would get that for a while until it began to diminish. Optimus was breaking. Megatron cocked his head to the side for a moment, an unspoken command to Starscream. The aviator left Prime and walked around behind Sam where Optimus couldn't see what he was doing. Sam dangled, out of breath, running out of blood, and barely living. His head was down in defeat, as he had done on the previous day.

Prime didn't know what Starscream had done. He couldn't see anything. All he knew was that whatever the Decepticon did, Sam screamed again, his body convulsing in pain, and then immediately went limp. Dead. His face went blank. Optimus couldn't describe what he was thinking or feeling. It could be shock, surprise, anger, hatred, or even grief. They were all very human, very Earth, terms that he never actually understood completely but used them to refer to in his own logics system. "Sam...?"

No response. Optimus Prime couldn't see the usual moving of his chest as he breathed, up and down. He'd watched the beauty of Sam breathing, on those nights where he would sleep with the boy in his arms. The rhythm of his lungs at work, inhaling and exhaling, keeping his very body alive for another day. But now, his scarred bloody skin was lifeless and still. He was dead.

"Oh, Prime...such a shame. There is a way to undo this, however." Megatron said, the same dribbling silver liquid assisting him to transform back into his menacing thirty-four foot tall self. "You see, it's only a temporary state that can be _made _permanent. The choice is up to you."  
"What do I need to do?" He almost sounded desperate. Oh, how pathetic things became when they fell in love with one another. Megatron tapped on the armor that rested beneath his chest plates. He was gesturing to the locked chamber, where Optimus' Spark twisted and turned excitedly with a fire of its own.

"Open the three locks for me, or I will open them by force. I know you wouldn't want that, would you." He paused to let that soak in, to let Optimus begin to ponder his options. "And...if you deny me, then I tell Starscream to _keep _the fleshling dead." That last sentence hit Prime hard in the face, painfully, terribly. The expression Megatron made in response to Optimus' surprise was one he couldn't describe. If he had to, it would be sheer pleasure. Prime wanted to double over right then and there and empty out his fuel tanks; he was absolutely disgusted. He couldn't believe Megatron. He was despicable; everything he was doing was low, even for him.

But Sparkbonding was sacred, an utmost intimacy that not many transformers experienced in all their years alive. It was the most personal thing an Autobot could do; to give themselves entirely to someone else, a gift of utmost love. Optimus had only done it back when he lived upon Cybertron, with Elita, but that was many, many human years long past. It was absolutely exhilarating for a first experience as Prime remembered it; the uncontrollably warm feeling shared between two bodies, two beings as one. But it wasn't so much for the bodily pleasure for them; Sparks sought comfort from one another when they came close, curling into each other warmly, lessening any pain from the other. If Sam was of the same species, Prime would've bonded Sparks a long time ago. However, in the present situation, Megatron's suggestion was vile. His circumstances were crude. Certainly he felt that forcing him, his very own brother, into such a situation was immoral. Another question popped into his head; did it really seem like he cared about right and wrong? Opening the three locks leading to his Spark chamber meant succumbing to his brother's demands, willingly allowing Megatron's filthy hands near the very thing that kept him alive. No. The very thing that Sam had given back to him; he was the reason he was still here, a year and six months later. Optimus gazed at Sam's lifeless body, swinging emptily from the rope. He remembered promising Sam that he would never lose him, that he'd do anything to keep him safe. Sacrifices had to be made in order to keep that promise, he told himself.

His optics flashed back to his brother's, meeting in a relentless glare. He currently spoke through his face plate, his expression undeterminable from beneath the metal cover. "Fine, I'll do as you say. Just...revive Sam."

Megatron was actually a robot of his word this time. He waved his hand in Starscream's direction, sending another unspoken message to his croney. In a matter of seconds, life surged through Sam's body once more. He began to breathe with an unknown urgency to himself as if he had no idea that he'd died and come back. The Raptor began wiping away at his wounds, cleaning his bare skin of the scarlet fluid before setting bandages on everything. Everything except the Decepticon symbol, which remained untouched, uncovered by the scraps of cloth that used to be Sam's shirt. As if to reinstate how permanent it was. Like he was purposefully plaguing Optimus' systems with guilt, remorse, and most of all, hatred.

His air intakes hummed as he felt overcome with relief at the sight of Sam's moving body. His face was full of confusion, wonderment, but Optimus told himself it was better if he didn't know what had happened.

"Optimus?" He asked, his voice ringing in Prime's receptors. He didn't answer him; instead, the Autobot pulled his optics away from the human. He didn't want him to see what would happen in return for bringing him back although he knew he would. It was shameful, if anything, to Prime.

"Now...keep your side of the bargain, Prime." Megatron said expectantly. Optimus' joints locked, supporting his weight as he stood tall and (at least tried to be) proud. There was nothing prideful in what he was doing; he knew that. After a moment, there was a sharp metallic click of something giving way underneath his chest plates. The tank hesitated before taloned hands reached at the chest armor, digging their way in to see what had been opened beneath. Optimus Prime's legs may have been chained, but that didn't make them immobile. He swept a leg forward, ignoring the stabs of pain from the gaping hole in his armor, and tripped his brother, the claws sliding down his armor away from his locked chamber.

He looked flustered, and blood red optics glanced at Optimus angrily, inquisitively.

"If you can't be patient, I won't open the locks at all." Optimus snarled softly, answering the expression on Megatron's face. As his brother had been getting back up, the first lock had reset itself, the plates forming back together defensively. "Don't touch me until then."

"You're in no position to be making demands."  
"Neither are you."

Megatron paused again, and took a step back. He circled Prime slowly, giving the Autobot a wide berth, waiting for the sound of the second lock. Or perhaps the third lock as well. He growled to himself in harsh Cybertronian, a language Optimus could understand flawlessly. He was anxious, eager, awaiting the next metallic click from innards of Prime's defenses. Barricade wandered back to the empty window sill at Megatron's command, leaving him alone with the Decepticon leader.

It had been a while since Optimus had tampered with the locks; he was a little rusty. His chest plates pulled slightly, the first lock undoing itself again with the same clack of metal. He stopped a moment with a soft hitch; if Megatron lurched or jumped towards him again, he'd shut it tight again without hesitation. As far as he could tell, his brother made no effort to get closer. As he passed by his front, Prime spotted it, the small spirit-like entity from the All-Spark that eminated between his chest plates, already completely exposed. It was taboo to expose your Spark to anyone freely, especially someone that wasn't your mate. The word 'slut' came to mind—Sam had used it before about girls that walked around almost completely naked.

The second lock also clicked open, Prime's contorted chest plates sliding open to show the small chamber in the center, the swirling white light inside shifting endlessly. The only thing that kept his Spark safe, secure inside his armor, was the thin final lock placed directly in front of it. Megatron stopped, gazing at the illustrious form resting inside his brother, hungrily awaiting the third lock's release. Prime had to concentrate on the lock, the third was never undone unless in the heat of mating, and required a lot of energy in order to open it on command. Sure enough, a minute or two later, the thin shield pulled back smoothly, leaving nothing but air to defend Optimus' most vulnerable piece of machinery. He sagged slightly, worn out, and took a sharp inhale of air to straighten himself.

Megatron eagerly pressed himself against Optimus, their armor scraping loudly against one another, closing the distance between the two open chambers. Prime shuddered as his Spark curled forward, towards his brother's, in a search for another's warmth and companionship. He couldn't possibly allow himself to enjoy it, he told himself. Absolutely not. But Megatron had other ideas; the jet's hands scrambled across Prime's smooth armor, seeking sensitive spots, attempting to find something that would make Prime cry out, make any sort of noise. Megatron had hardly touched him but Optimus felt the rush of the tingling energy, racing through all of his circuits, causing him to relax slightly. It felt so nice, so peaceful...

Optimus' Spark wanted more contact, more light, begging its owner wordlessly. Prime shook his head in defiance, trying to deny his body's pleads. It wanted this more than he did—it ached to connect to the other Spark, only centimeters from itself. Megatron's teeth nibbled at his destroyed neck wiring, pulling himself so closely that there was no passage for air to the chambers. Optimus was out of breath, trying to gain control over his own body but his logics system, processors, and receptors all seemed to have a mind of their own. His core throbbed for consolation, begged for more from his brother, making Optimus' mind cluttered with uncontrollable thoughts. Ventilation systems started up automatically in an attempt to cool overheated sections of his body as Megatron continued scraping against him, blue and red paint chipping off his torso.  
Megatron's Spark was greedy, almost thirsty for contact. Unlike Prime's which sought comfort for its pain built up over time, his was harsh, strong, just as he was. Optimus' spark didn't resist as Megatron's curled against it, soothing the pains of the Peterbilt's almost instantly while also sharing its own stories. He forced his joints to buckle as he felt his legs grow weak, his head lolled to the side weakly, dazed. It was hard to think that such a breathtaking experience, something so delicious and insanely pleasurable was wrong. It was almost impossible to deny that he did enjoy the contact, the connection between their two bodies. Despite how cruel and despicable Megatron was, the feeling of his Spark consoling his own was amazing.

His vocalizers betrayed him, allowing a soft moan of pleasure to slip out. Megatron twitched slightly, in recognition, and groaned lustfully as his hands roved over red and blue plates of armor sensually. "You can't deny it, brother, you like this. I know you do."

"N-No..." Prime's neuro-grid was fried, his intelligible thoughts lost to him. He was well aware what was coming next, what his brother had saved for last. Optimus wouldn't be able to control himself then, wouldn't be able to stop his body from its traitorous movements.

The two Sparks grew closer until they were perfectly unified, both of their vocalizers allowed explosions of pleasure, sensation. But as quickly as it had happened, it ended and Megatron staggered backwards, the locks over his chamber reassembling themselves until it was hidden beneath his jagged plates.

The Peterbilt was weak, taking in air raggedly. He cursed himself from underneath his face plate, unheard by anyone because of the clacking noises his insides made as they covered the sensitive core once more with thick armor and other security measures. His logics circuit seemed suddenly revived, notifying him of the problems his body faced. Hadn't he shut that off before? He was tired, his joints were sore and his ventilation systems were working as hard as they could to return his body temperature to normal.

Megatron had a slight problem standing up and called Starscream over to assist in supporting him. As cold and heartless as the Decepticon was, he stood puzzled over what just occurred. Sparkbonding had never had such a power over him before; he'd never experienced such an undeniable feeling of rapture as he did with Prime. He suddenly remembered why he didn't enjoy bonding—he despised knowing the other's pains, their sorrows. Sam. Optimus' Spark had seemingly endless stories, pains, involving the fleshling. He growled angrily at the thought that his rival, as strong as he was, could be brought down so far by something as puny as a human being.

It wasn't long before bright blue optics flickered into nothing and Optimus' body went limp, supported by the Cybertronian chain links. He'd simply been knocked unconscious—not turned offline by anything. He was exhausted.

That left the problem of Sam, who was watching in shock. Megatron was tired as well and very irritable, ignoring the shouts and questions that continued to burst from Sam's mouth. He handed the F-22 a small vial of leftover morphine and told him to silence the boy, his voice doing nothing for Megatron's aching body. His body dropped into the throne and he rested his head tiredly in the palm of his hand. It took no more than a few seconds for him to completely give out, and his systems shut off to recharge. Only one more day, he told himself, and then he'd be done with Prime...and the meatsack forever.


	11. Dug a trench out and laid down there

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, I think the worst is past us. This is mainly an "autobots" chapter, which I'm actually kinda glad for. I like writing scenes with the Autobots and other characters. Here's my only tribute to the US military for my story. :] And yes, I think that's all.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the Transformers, or Sam Witwicky, or any other minor characters. I just write the story.

----------------

The third day of Sam and Optimus' disappearance came, and it was nearing noon before the Autobots made any effort to begin a search. They all sat in the conference room, with the exception of the empty chair at the head. If someone were to look at them adjacent Prime's seat, from left to right it would be Mudflap, presumably Arcee's seat which wasn't taken either, Sideswipe, Ironhide, Optimus' chair, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Jolt, and Skids. They were quiet and listening, hoping for the sound of someone coming through the entrance corridor. The room was dimly lit, almost sinister, as if awaiting grave news. After half an hour of waiting, someone decided to break the silence.

"They're not coming." Jolt said. Underneath his polished blue armor, optics narrowed warily. "Something's wrong."  
"I agree with Jolt. There's something fishy here." Sideswipe added, leaning back in his chair. The chairs were big enough for all of them without the need to wear sythoplasm.

The Rescue Ambulance nodded, lacing his fingers together in front of his face with caution, "Yes. I agree. I've tried locating Optimus several times, even sent out frequencies to him, but I'm met with nothing but interference. There is a problem although I'm not sure what exactly it is."

"Where could Sam be then...?" Bumblebee asked, his voice feeble and concerned. He looked worn, like a mother panicking over the investigation of her missing child.

"The Decepticons?" Skids suggested. It was the most likely option, but the other Autobots didn't want to assume the worst quite so soon. They _hoped _it didn't come to that, although everyone knew it quite possibly could.

"They got 'da kid with 'em too, right? It's gotta be those Decepticon punks." Mudflap added. "It don't make sense any other way."

There was an uneasy tension in the group, as if they didn't want to admit that the Twins had the best idea as to who the culprits could be. Ironhide spoke, "Look, I'm going to contact NEST and see if they can try and find him through a satellite or something. It shouldn't be hard to spot an Autobot, especially with the rads we give off."

--

Will rested his head down on the counter of his station and allowed himself to doze. The hangar was quiet except for the noise of clacking keyboards and the occasional footfall. He didn't have any leads to investigate, and the only sighting they had received was of a "Mustang Police Cruiser disappearing past Princeton University" which turned out to be a dead end. Where he worked was sectioned off so that he was by himself, surrounded by every piece of technology a soldier may want or need. Screens lit up with new windows, little pieces of machinery beeped behind him, but he'd grown to ignore it after a while. As he felt himself slipping into unconsciousness, a voice snapped him awake with abrupt velocity.

"Hey, Lennox, we got an incoming signal." Epps was stationed at a console nearby and shouted to the Special Forces captain. The other soldiers at their posts looked over with intensely curious fascination. "It's from the Autobots."

Lennox jumped over the railing that separated his workspace from the others, leaning over Epps' shoulder to check the screen for himself. It had been a while since he heard from them—what did they need? "All right, open a channel. Let's see what they want."

Ironhide came onscreen, a serious frown plastered to his cat-like face. It didn't seem like good news, Lennox could tell. The technical sergeant got up from his seat and allowed Lennox to take over. Behind Ironhide, Will could see others sitting around an inhumanly large table anxiously.

"Yeah, 'Hide?" Lennox couldn't help but sound a little longing—he missed his Autobot friend. He and Ironhide were like brothers on the battlefield and he couldn't help but feel close with him after shedding precious blood and metal together.

"We think we have a problem and we need your help." He replied curtly. "Can you connect to a US military satellite from HQ?"

"Yeah, of course we can. Why? What's wrong?" Will asked, taking the seat that Epps offered him.  
"I need you to locate Optimus via satellite. Can you do that?" Ironhide continued.

The idea took him back slightly, but he didn't question it. Will nodded, "Yeah, it shouldn't be hard. But..." He couldn't help but blurt out the question, "why isn't he with you?"

"We lost him." Ironhide sounded almost ashamed of it.

That wasn't good. The Autobots were like chickens running around with their heads cut off without Optimus around. Will cleared his throat and opened a new channel to General Morshower. Even though he was captain, he needed to get an okay for a request like tapping into a satellite.

The General appeared onscreen in a window next to Ironhide's, looking bald as usual. His uniform was a tan brown and tidy as it should be, and he looked drained as he spoke. His eyebrows were pulled down out of habit, "What is it, Captain?"

"NEST requests immediate connection to one of our satellites, General." Will said in a serious army tone he'd learned so well over the years. "We believe it may help investigate a lead on Megatron." After a couple more minutes of playing messenger from Ironhide to the General and explaining the severity of the situation, Morshower considered the options. His face was full of contemplation and he stroked his chin inquisitively after discussing it with another high-ranking officer nearby.

Finally, the man sighed impatiently and waved halfheartedly. "Fine, I give you the go-ahead."

"Thank you, sir." He nodded to Morshower before the General disappeared from the computer screen eagerly. "All right, 'Hide, we're going to tap into one as soon as possible. Hold on."

Epps was working away at another station, going through several online checkpoints before actually accessing the satellite. Meanwhile, Will tried to keep Ironhide busy with small-talk which didn't seem to interest him much at all.

"Hey, Will, we got a problem." Epps said, beckoning him over again. "You see this?"

On the computer was an outer space view of Earth, sure enough, but the screen constantly fuzzed into static unsteadily. Epps scowled and handed Lennox his headset, "Listen to this too." The instant Will put the headphones on, he heard a deafening screech of metal, a high-pitched frequency. "We've already got people tracing its source. It's coming _from _the satellite."

"You mean...there's one up there hacking us?" Will said, trying to be soft enough so that Ironhide couldn't hear. He didn't need any more troubles than the ones he already had. "It's been tampering with a US military orbital satellite?"

"That's the only answer that makes sense, doesn't it?" He began to speak in a conspiratorial whisper, "Anything we do, he's going to see it and tip the others off. If we're going to find Prime, we're going to have to get rid of him first." He paused and wrote something on a piece of paper he had in front of him that read: _I'm not so sure that he can't hear us right now. _

"Talk to Morshower, Epps. Get that thing grounded or off our satellite. I don't care how, just do it and do it now."

-----

"Pull it tighter, Starscream," Barricade shouted to his partner in crime, who stood above him in the rafters, hands held tight on the ropes suspending Sam. The pilot pulled on the rope, stretching Sam's arms higher and higher. "Not yet; keep going!"

"Got it." Starscream worked the machine that pulled the rope higher, tighter, lifting him several more feet off the ground until the only thing pulling against him was the ropes wrapped around his feet. Sam felt like he was going through a taffy puller—his body was being pulled past its natural means, and the soreness ripped through his body like a knife. He was already screaming; the pain was unimaginable. What more could they do to him that they hadn't already?

"Almost..." Barricade yelled and laughed when he heard the outcry of agony from their victim. The human's left shoulder jutted out underneath his skin, completely yanked out of its socket, and the other was displaced. "All right, you got it."

Optimus was awake, watching lifelessly, his systems running at only 25% capacity with his energy as low as it was. He couldn't do anything—what was the point of struggling, attempting to save Sam, when he knew it was futile? Instead he simply watched and sagged against the links that held him. He was drained, broken inside. After a while of listening to Sam's screams, he shut off his audio receptors. Prime didn't want to hear them. Not now. Megatron hadn't looked very happy since the day before, although Optimus couldn't seem to figure out why. Instead he sat on his throne, like a statue, watching his lackeys do as they pleased to Sam. He didn't laugh, snort, or growl. He was stoic, still resting his head in one of his hands.

Sam caught his breath and tried to ignore the sharp, gnawing agony that spread from one shoulder to the other, burning a trail in his skin as it went. He knew that Prime was just as aware of their impending death; Sam unluckily got the short end of the stick. What better way to kill time than torture the fleshling? They're easily breakable. At this rate, he wouldn't last much longer anyway. Well, so much for beating up the goddamn fleshling.

His head had sunk low between his shoulders, looking more pathetic than usual. What would everyone think when they found his corpse, if they _ever _found it? Barricade shouted something back up to Starscream, but Sam didn't hear anything over his own thoughts. He heard a quick _snip _from above, and the area around him suddenly came crashing down. No, wait, Sam thought. The warehouse wasn't falling. He was. His hands suddenly became looser, light, no longer tied above him. Unfortunately, the fall automatically resulted in him landing on his broken legs, and he quickly fell over from the stabbing pain. The floor felt horribly ice cold against his skin and he wrapped a hand around his stomach, taking advantage of the fact that his arms weren't bound anymore.

Starscream jumped down from the rafters, a jump that would kill any normal human being, to join Barricade. "You're pathetic. Just look at you." He said, stepping on Sam's free hand, rubbing the sole of his shoe down hard until the scrapes on his skin began to bleed. Barricade snorted a laugh but said nothing. Sam didn't cry out, or moan, or whimper, or anything. He just gritted his teeth and shut his eyes, ignoring the knives that ran through his entire body. Well, he wasn't tied up anymore, but he sure as hell couldn't run anywhere. Wasn't it the third day since they were captured?

"Leave the boy alone for now," Megatron's thick voice ripped through the air. Starscream's foot lifted from Sam's hand, and the boy rolled over onto his back, exhaling sharply from the agony. Megatron came into his view, looking down on him as if he were a dog that should've been put out of it long ago. "Let him wallow in his misery. He has to last until tomorrow, you idiots. Starscream, Barricade, come with me." He was serious, his red optics unrelenting on his cohorts who stared in confusion.

Where could they possibly be going, Sam thought. He didn't care. Those guys going out meant he had some time to himself to 'wallow in his own misery' as Megatron had put it. Without question Barricade and Starscream joined their leader, took on the form of their vehicles, and disappeared out of Sam's view. He heard the roar of engines and the screech of tires as, sure enough, the Decepticons left. What, was it a test? Where they trying to see if Sam would, despite being broken beyond repair, try and get up and run away?

"Optimus...are you there?" Sam said, straining himself with those few words. He heard a soft whirring as Optimus most likely lifted his head—he wasn't watching though. His eyes were fixated on the smooth concrete ceiling as his body simply focused on keeping him alive. He was slipping though; he felt it with every heartbeat, every intake of air in his lungs.

Optimus had turned his audio receptors back on when the Decepticons slipped away. "Yes, Sam. I'm here."

"I'm sorry." Sam whimpered. He felt tears welling up. The thought of his nearing death was beginning to make him hysterical. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I got us into all this trouble. I'm sorry for ever having met you—if you never knew me, you would never have gotten into this kind of situation."

"Don't apologize." Prime replied shortly. "I've told you before; our fates are intertwined."

"Not just for all this, Optimus. I'm sorry for getting mad about Bumblebee—"

"Sam, stop. We're not going to die." As much as he wanted to believe his words, Prime's optimism was slipping. It had been three days, and there was no sign of a rescue. Still, he had to say something to keep Sam going. If he didn't, Sam would just let his body quit and die right there. He wouldn't allow that.

"Did you ever think it would end like this?" Sam said after a long silence.

"I expected Megatron's involvement, I have to admit. But no." His vocalizers were cracking, most likely starting to break. He didn't have Ratchet around to fix him either. "Not like this."

"I wonder how long it'll take for the Autobots to find out we're dead."

"I have a feeling they know something's wrong. It's just a matter of time," He had faith in his companions, or was it hope that they would be found before it was too late? He wasn't so sure anymore. "They're looking for us. We just have to outlast."

---------

"Commencing missile launch in three, two, one," a soldier reported from his own computer. "Lift off. Missile launched."

Will awaited the outcome patiently, a view of the satellite clearly visible on one of his screens. Shooting a missile was the last option they had, but every other way of getting rid of the transformer didn't seem to work. They tried a frequency to mess up its systems but it retaliated with its own frequency that short-circuited one of their computers and made it catch fire. They tried communicating with it but received no response. Whatever was up there didn't want to come down. General Morshower didn't like the idea either, but Will convinced him it was for the United States' best interest.

"Okay, the dude's moved off of it. He smartened up; he disconnected from the satellite." Epps said and tapped back into the satellite for a 'bird's eye view' while cursing quietly to himself.

"Hone the missile in on that Decepticon's energy signature and get him out of our orbit." Lennox commanded to nearby soldiers monitoring the missile's path into outer space. "I want nothing left but shrapnel when we're done here. Take him down."

"Roger, sir."

He hadn't seen that Decepticon before; it was large, bulky, and blue. It took on the shape of whatever satellite it had grown accustomed to, and now it looked like a lanky five petaled flower. He caught a glimpse of crimson underneath a thick helmet-looking armor. He'd learned to recognize Decepticons by their red optics and Autobots by their blue, in case he was ever in a situation where two transformers looked too similar to one another. The missile came into view, moving in on the slowly floating hacker. It was moving entirely too fast to dodge; Will was sure that the robot would be nothing in a matter of seconds. He turned to another computer to contact Ironhide and fill him in on the situation. Dread sank into his stomach when a soldier spoke up, "Captain, the target has moved out of the missile's path. It's a miss, sir."

"What? That's impossible! We just had it!" He retorted, jumping back to Epps' side to view the screen. Sure enough, it had missed by fractions of an inch, barely grazing the side of the blue Decepticon before it imploded in the vacuum of space. "How is that possible? We were locked on his signature."

"We've confirmed that the target altered its signature a couple seconds ago and threw the missile off, Captain." Another responded.

"Hey, we got more news for you. I'm picking up a signature. It matches the truck, Captain," Epps replied, his face shining with sweat. "That hacker was using a cloaking program to hide him and scramble any signals. There was a signal sent out about three days ago, but I can't catch the message. I've also got a thermal signature—did they say he had anyone with him?"

Will breathed in slowly; the hacker wasn't a problem right now. They could deal with it later. "No, I have a good idea who's with him though. Give me the location. I'll pass it on to Ironhide."

--

The Autobots were inside the armory, suiting up for what the Twins called "Operation Save Their Asses". There was another tense silence in the air, only broken by a command or two on how to attach this cannon or that gun. Ratchet had answered Lennox's transmission since Ironhide had been too busy helping people with ammunition and other weapons. He came back inside, looking flustered, with a piece of paper in his hands.

"We've got Optimus' and the boy's location. They're in Brooklyn, New York. It'll take us an hour or two to get there." Ratchet already had all the weapons he needed equipped. The other Autobots finished adjusting themselves and Ironhide cleared his throat, assuming the role of temporary leader, "All right then. Autobots, roll out."


	12. With a shovel up out of reach somewhere

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, well, we're winding it down now. I have to admit, I'm very glad to be nearing completion with this story. I've got so many other plans in mind, and this one seems to be keeping me from getting those things done. So, with a sigh of relief, I give you the next chapter. Unfortunately, Neko, I couldn't wait until you got your mail. I just had to post it; I couldn't help myself. And I've just now, on 8.12.09, been able to see the reviews from Chapter 11. Weird. :|

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters.

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Optimus felt a sudden silence fill his internal systems, a comfortable quiet that almost made him leap with joy. The jamming signal that Soundwave had maintained over the past three days had suddenly disappeared and he was met with welcome radio static. He began to tamper with his radio and prepared a new message that he hoped the Autobots would catch. Depending on how far they were from his locale, his chances were slim.

_"Autobots, this is Optimus Prime. Come in, do you read me?" _

The radio hissed at him for a while and he quickly became disheartened. What if they were out of range? His body began to sink again with the last of his hope. His systems suddenly slowed down again, almost automatically, as the radio simply continued to hiss at him, laughing, in his last hours. There was a sharp whine of a transmission and Optimus would've done some sort of Earth dance if he could because eventually the familiar voice of Sideswipe responded. _"Yeah, you're coming in loud and clear, buddy. We're en route. Just sit tight and we'll be there soon."_

_"You have no idea how glad I am to hear your vocalizers. Please hurry. I'm not sure how much longer Sam can survive; he's lost a lot of blood."_

_"Yikes. Well, I'll tell them to pick up the pace. Estimated time of arrival is about seventy minutes. You're a big kid—take care until then. Sideswipe out."_

Optimus knew he'd be able to last another hour; his main concern was Sam. His breathing pattern resembled hyperventilation as he remained flat on his back, staring relentlessly at the ceiling as if waiting for something to show through the concrete. He had to keep talking to him to keep his mind working; otherwise he knew that he'd lose him for good. Prime spoke almost silently, unsure when the Decepticons would come back or if they were listening in somehow. "Sam, I just got a message from Sideswipe. We're going to be saved. Just hold on. Sam?"

He continued to stare at the ceiling. Over several minutes of no response and Optimus grew more and more worried. He tried to call his name again, but Sam was in a different world entirely. Prime stopped eventually and watched his chest rise and fall with unhealthy speed, counting the times he inhaled and exhaled per minute.

"Optimus." Sam finally breathed. Optimus was overcome with relief at the boy's voice, albeit strained. "What did you say?" He said each word between pant-like breaths.

"We're going to be rescued, Sam. You just need to breathe. Calm down. I spoke to Sideswipe; they're coming for us." Being the leader, Optimus felt somewhat pathetic for needing rescue from his team. Selfish feelings like that weren't needed here though, and he knew that. All that mattered now was seeing to it that Sam continued living. "You're going into shock. Sam, just take deep breaths. It's going to be all right."

They only had fifteen minutes left. For another few minutes, Sam breathing pace quickened and Prime began to panic. However, Sam took a while to regain control over his body and Optimus watched as his chest began to slowly return to normal. His head flopped to the side to look at the Peterbilt, "Did you say...we're being rescued?"

"Yes. We just need to last a little bit longer. Sam, I—" He shut his trap instantly with an audible noise as two aircrafts roared into the warehouse through the roof and the cruiser came through a hole in the wall (that Optimus didn't remember seeing before) and skidded to a halt.

They all transformed into their robot forms, looking forlorn and angry. Megatron tromped over to Optimus and grabbed him by the jaw in the same places he'd already caused dents. His grasp actually pulled Prime's legs up to support himself, which his joints responded with cries of defiance and pain. "It seems that, unfortunately, we'll have to move things a bit ahead of schedule. We've had an uncalled turn of events from those measly Autobots. Thanks to your stupid friends, I've lost connections to my Communications Officer."

Optimus wasn't very afraid, even when standing face-to-face with one of the most menacing faces in existence. His faceplate reformed into its place to stop himself from spitting oil at his brother. "I couldn't have possibly been a part of the Autobots' plan. I've been here all along, Megatron. You know that."

"Don't lie to me, Optimus!" He said as he threw a punch into the Autobot's jaw with a sharp metallic clang to it. Sam screamed his name from somewhere behind the Decepticon. It didn't hurt so much, as tired as Optimus was. Had it been three days ago, it would've made his receptors scream with pain, but now it was just a dull feeling like a toothache. "I know you contacted them the minute the jamming signal vanished. We can't waste any time now...they're on their way. Starscream, Barricade, get the boy up on his feet. Make him stand."

_"You guys better hurry. We've got a lot of trouble headed our way right now."_ Optimus hoped the Autobots would get his signal. He bet his Spark on it. Twelve minutes left.

Sam began seething as Barricade and Starscream grabbed him under his arms and forced his weight onto his broken limbs. He looked as if he could snap in half under the weight; his legs wobbled with uncertainty and it seemed that it took every nerve in Sam's body to keep himself from screaming again. He wasn't going to go out pitifully. If he had to die, he was at least going to be a man about it. His legs burned and screamed and ached and cried to him—he wouldn't be able to stand very long. He still had two firm supports under each arm in case they decided to give way unexpectedly.

"You shouldn't have gotten involved with him, Prime. It would've just been you here, to rot in your pathetic grave. What is that Earth phrase though? Misery needs company?" Optimus stared at Megatron inquisitively as he continued to rant with a grin spreading on his maniacal face. His finger morphed to form a blade, something he'd never seen him do before, and turned toward Sam. Realization hit Prime a second too late. His receptors picked up a shout of Sam's name; it was his own vocalizers but they sounded mysteriously unrecognizable.

There was a loud _shink _noise and a squelching of wet, thick tissue as Megatron gutted his pallid, shaking body. Sam sharply inhaled, a hand going straight to the hole in his stomach once Megatron slowly pulled the scarlet covered weapon out with an audibly disgusting noise. Optimus saw the blood flow down his bruised, beaten skin onto his poorly fastened jeans, pooling in a stain in the already crusted fabric. He lifted his eyes to Optimus and chuckled with a sickening gurgle, "It's going to be all right, Optimus. It'll..." His eyes lolled to the back of his head as he crumpled in the Decepticons' grip. He was just a rag doll, trashed and tossed aside the minute they were done playing with him. They quickly let go of him, and his body fell to the floor once again.

"Sadly, he's still alive. I didn't want to ruin my memoir...so we'll have to let him hemorrhage."

"Sam!" Optimus shouted again, straining his vocalizers to the point of breaking. He felt like he had the strength of ten Autobots, and the chains were nothing to him anymore. The concrete behind him crumbled, the links were beginning to split. The hydraulics in his arms and legs hissed—the wounds were no longer pained. His servos whirred loudly as he pulled, yanked, thrashed, and struggled to break free. Sam was dying. He was breaking his promise; he had to keep Sam safe. Keep Sam Witwicky safe. Megatron glanced at him with surprise but quickly wiped the expression off of his face.

"And now for you." He said, a hand clawing at Prime's armor plates to his Spark chamber. He was going to rip it out, Optimus was well aware of this, but that didn't stop him. The concrete was ripping away from the walls and was taking the chains with it. He felt a cold hand grab hold of his life force; the force Sam had given to him. You're not going to get it, you slagtard. You aren't going to slagging get it, you piece of scrap, his mind was screaming.

The wires around the chamber were like a domino tower, breaking quickly and cleanly overtop one another as Megatron began to rip the core right out of Optimus Prime's body. One of Optimus' hands was lighter, and he hadn't realized that he'd broken the support right off of the wall. The chains dangled loosely around his thick wrist like a bracelet—his hand was free. It balled into a fist as soon as Prime found the ability to control it and struck his brother across the face without a moment's hesitation. The Decepticon stumbled backward to be caught by Barricade, shock written on his ugly mug. If he found his voice, it would've been stuttering "how did you—?!"

Two minutes now. They'd be here any second.

"Prime, you vile pathetic excuse for a machine!" He jumped back onto his feet and Optimus watched as a jagged claw reached again for his core. Prime's free hand grabbed onto Megatron's fore arm in an attempt to push him off, but compared to his brother, he was drained and much weaker. Megatron snarled and hissed like a cobra, "You actually think you can defeat me as you are, Prime? Your circuits must be fried!"

The joints in his arms popped and he knew his strength wouldn't last for much longer. That spurt of energy and adrenaline had disappeared and he felt insanely tired once again. His repair systems warned him of a pressure overload on his hand, but Optimus quickly turned the warning off. He didn't need to be reminded. The cold hand touched his core again with only two or three cords still holding it in place, sending shudders up Prime's spine.  
Megatron chuckled evilly, almost as if death itself was on his breath, "I'm going to enjoy watching you die again, Optimus."

Optimus' optics lifted to a window sill behind Megatron, smugness consuming his face. Ratchet and Ironhide stood poised, signaling him to give the order when he was ready. How can the Decepticons not sense the Autobots, he wondered. He laughed back and nodded, giving them the okay. "I think not."

Megatron's optics widened too late and was knocked away from Optimus by a blast of energon to a chink in the armor on his shoulder. The bulky Decepticon spun around angrily, sputtering curses and words in Cybertronian. The twins, Bumblebee, Ironhide, Ratchet, Sideswipe, and Jolt all came barreling in through the wall behind Sam, rubble narrowly avoiding the bleeding body that lie on the floor. "Barricade, Starscream, attack!"

Ironhide and Sideswipe both opened fire on Megatron to draw his attention away from Prime. The leader snarled under his breath, clawed hands groping and swinging through the air to protect his body from any more attacks. The GM truck grabbed onto the tank's arm and flipped him over onto his back. Sideswipe's Cybertanium arm swords stabbed him through the open spots in his armor on his arm, and the figure screeched in horrifying anger and agony. He wouldn't be able to use the fusion cannon if he didn't have both arms at his disposal.

"Ironhide, look out!" Sideswipe exclaimed pointedly.

Ironhide went flying onto his stomach, a large flaming gash on his lower torso. As Sideswipe watched his partner distractedly, Megatron fired from his pinned arm, hitting the Stingray underneath his chest armor. He ripped the arm swords out of his thick armor, growling in pain as he did, and flung them at their owner. Sideswipe dodged the projectiles just barely, and quickly reattached them to his body. "This isn't going so well, 'Hide."

'Hide patted the flames out on his body, moaning as if he'd just been awoken rudely from a nice nap. "I know, but we have to keep him busy. Keep going!"

Optimus ripped his other arm free, ignoring the jagged pain in his wrists as it pulled against the Cybertronian metal. He fell to his knees, more knives stabbing his receptors with overwhelming agony, and quickly did away with the chains wrapped around his ankles. "Ratchet!" He yelled over the battlefield, "Ratchet, see to Sam! Let the others handle this!"

Ratchet nodded in understanding and rushed to the boy's side, changing into his William Petersen form to assess the damage better. Optimus dragged himself on wounded legs to Ratchet's side, serving as a shield from any flying shrapnel or attacks while the doctor tended to his patient. The older man scowled, pressing a firm hand to the hole in Sam's stomach, "He's lost so much blood. Prime, apply pressure to the wound to stop the flow, please." A large metal finger pressed against the hole gently as he was told. The doctor overlooked his lower body and legs, "He's been through a lot. That wound in his stomach has allowed shrapnel inside his body and is puncturing his organs. Sam doesn't have very long at this rate."  
"Ratchet, do something. I'm not going to let him die here." Optimus replied gravely. Ratchet took the spectacles off of his nose and tucked them into his breast pocket as he sighed. "Okay, Prime. I'll see what I can do."

A shot, then a roll, then another shot, then another roll. Ironhide dodged most of Megatron's attacks with Matrix-like speed. Only three hits actually punctured his armor, but he didn't let that stop him. Sideswipe, meanwhile, snuck up on the tank from behind and threw an arm sword in the back of his neck.

Megatron howled in agony, ripping the sword out as well as a couple wires and pieces of metal from his own systems and bent it into unrecognizable metal. Sideswipe used his only other sword to shove it through a spot on his arm he'd gotten before, causing it to go limp entirely. "I cut off the system to his arm, 'Hide! We've got a minute until his repair system fixes it! Now it's your turn!"

Turrets on the pick up truck's shoulders clicked open and fired high-heat sabot rounds at the Decepticon. It was the first time Ironhide actually fought the leader without Optimus' help, and he was doing quite a good job. However the pain, Megatron didn't stop. He grabbed onto Sideswipe's arm by the sword and Ironhide stopped the assault. The tank pinned Sideswipe's other arm under his foot and began to pull, looking at 'Hide with intensely menacing optics. Ironhide froze. Sideswipe shook his head and shouted, "Ironhide, don't worry! Go on! We've got him where we want him!"

Megatron's neck was leaking lubricants, one of his arms was out of service, and pieces of armor were hanging loosely. Despite his weak position, he knew how to intimidate someone else. His good hand snaked around Sideswipe's arm, tugging until Ironhide began to see wires pulled to their extremes and a few snapped abruptly.

"I could break him. Right now." Megatron threatened. Sparks began to fly from Sideswipe's arm socket, but he didn't make it apparent on his face. He was vigorously shaking his head, urging Ironhide to keep going.

Ironhide's turrets closed with a clack, and the Autobot's shoulders sunk. The force on Sideswipe's arm didn't seem to lessen and the sparks only seemed to worsen. Megatron purred. "Such a smart Autobot. I think I'm going to kill him anyway."

"No!" Ironhide's cannons jerked back up inhumanly fast and fired, each shot hitting Megatron directly in the other arm socket. The bulky shape broke apart from the tank's body and collided with the floor with a sound of scraping metal. Megatron stumbled, completely defenseless. Sideswipe managed to slide out from underneath him and onto his feet again.

"Wow, you're pretty quick on the draw. Thanks, big time."

"Is dat all you got? Didn't get enough whoop-ass last time we took care of you, ugly?" Mudflap incessantly shouted insults and curses at the F-22 Raptor, who seemed to have the same amount of trouble with the twins as last time they'd fought. He was wise to their game, however, and would catch one of the twins as they tried to maneuver around him with a shot or two of energon. His hand caught onto Skids' left leg jerkily and flung him into the rafters, almost into the ceiling. Mudflap retaliated with a shot at his neck wiring, and Starscream toppled over momentarily. The Decepticon got onto his feet unsteadily and fired at the red Chevrolet as he rolled along, dodging several fired shots until one blast hit him painfully in the back of his leg. Jolt joined the Twins as soon as he possibly could as he saw them both fall, one after the other.

The Chevrolet Volt helped Mudflap up as he shook the pain off, cursing at the Raptor in slang. Skids fell with a clatter through the upper machinery, and groaned as he got back up and stood alongside his brother, "Man, this guy's a pain in my aft!"

"They gotten better since last time. Maybe dat's how they beat Prime." Mudflap replied. Skids shook his head, "Naw, man, they ganged up on Prime! Ain't nobody who can beat Optimus one-on-one."

"Guys, we've got bigger things to deal with right now." Jolt scolded as he shielded both of them from a surprise missile Starscream had released. His blue paint job was peeling, no longer the glossy perfection it once was. "Bitch among yourselves later." His hands formed two large tasers, definitely big enough to down a transformer, and charged the enemy.

As the twins continued the onslaught of attacks on Starscream, they had come up with a bet between the two of them. Whoever took the Raptor down quicker got a one-on-one chance against Optimus, as if to prove their point. So they took their time, dodging and mocking and shooting at the Decepticon, not wanting to be the one who would win the bet. They both hoped Jolt would be the one to do it. They'd tell him about the bet later, they agreed.

"You've gotten better," The Mustang growled as he wiped a trickle of oil from his mouth. Bumblebee bounced from one foot to the other, fists up and ready in front of his face. The Camaro stared warily. "I'm still stronger than you, Bumblebee; no matter how much training those other Autobots have given you, I'll always be better."

His hands met Bumblebee's in a deadlock, a test of strength. Bumblebee knew he wouldn't be able to overpower Barricade; what the Mustang said about being stronger was true. He could feel his servos beginning to ache and the yellow Camaro took in a deep breath to hold himself firmly. His feet began to slide backwards as the Decepticon pushed him back against a wall. The police cruiser cackled, "You're weak! You fight for the weak!"

His yellow plates scraped against the concrete, his car-door wings flat on the wall behind him. He could feel it cracking behind him as Barricade pushed harder against him. His grounding started to slip. Bumblebee managed to lift a foot and kick Barricade in the gut hard enough to surprise him. The Mustang's grip loosened and Bee pushed him backwards as well as himself away from the wall. Barricade's hand transformed into a whirring, spiked wheel, and he charged toward the Autobot with a roar. Those training sessions certainly improved his fighting techniques. The Camaro jumped out of harm's way and grabbed Barricade's wheel-less hand, shoving it against his back with a sickening crack of metal.

"..._You're the weak one, buster." _Bumblebee's radio spat at the interrogator. His vocalizers warbled until his own familiar voice broke free of the rusted speaker, _"_I fight for the ones I love."

The Mustang writhed and struggled and cursed but Bumblebee didn't let go. A spiked wheel came rushing at his face from over Barricade's shoulder, but he ducked. There wasn't much one could do without seeing where exactly his enemy was so Bee had the advantage here. His hand shot through the Ford's back like a knife through butter and wrapped around his Spark chamber.

"You disgusting, worthless little—!"

'Getting the core of a transformer is a sure-fire way to get rid of them once and for all.' Ironhide had reminded him several times. With a movement unfamiliar to Bumblebee, he curled his hand into a fist around Barricade's core, crushing it with a mercilessness he'd never had before. Its warmth slowly waned to an icy cold and liquid began to seep between his fingers, thick yet runny like maple syrup. Bumblebee pulled his hand back out, eager to let go of the destroyed core. The struggling immediately stopped and an audible last breath escaped the Decepticon as his optics flickered to gray. The wheel came to a weak, pathetic stop and the body in Bee's grip slackened before he allowed it to fall.

Sam! Bumblebee remembered what it was that they had come for. Optimus and Ratchet stood over an unmoving Sam across the warehouse, past the ongoing battles with the Twins and Ironhide. The guardian felt a sudden tug at his Spark—he needed to get to Sam, he had to be at Sam's side. Without hesitation, the Camaro was on the move through the battlefield.

Megatron's repaired arm came back to life and reattached his disconnected one to its proper socket. Ironhide and Sideswipe were helping the Twins momentarily, shooting at an unsuspecting Starscream. Starscream was too weak to get on his feet now, bombarded by round after round of shots. Large parts continued to break off of his body and he fired blindly, hitting both of the Twins and even Jolt. Taking advantage of the cease-fire, Starscream changed into his Raptor form and escaped his encirclement of Autobots. He flew over Ironhide and Sideswipe's heads towards his leader and their attention followed him.

Megatron glanced around and slunk behind them towards Barricade's corpse, a barrel aimed at Optimus' back and prepared to fire. However, the F-22 crashed into his side mid-transformation and Megatron's blast was knocked into the wrong direction and Ironhide turned on him with the barrels of his cannons glowing and humming. "Not so fast, Megatron!"

The tank quickly reached at the Ford's body and brought it up in front of him defensively, allowing him to take the shots Ironhide fired instead. The police cruiser jerked under each shot and pieces of metal went flying but Megatron remained unharmed. He muttered to himself huskily, "You've finally made yourself useful, Barricade."

"Lord! Megatron! Help!" Starscream choked out again weakly, a fourth of his face smoldering and hissing with white-hot metal. "We...must fall back!"

"I agree, Starscream, we've done all we can here. Retreat!" He shouted from behind the dented makeshift armor that was once a fellow Decepticon.

"Ironhide, stop. It's no good." Sideswipe reported. The GM's weapons droned down with a whine. The two Decepticons reassembled into aircraft shapes and shot through the ceiling, allowing rubble to fall upon the unsuspecting Autobots. Barricade's body was left behind in a destroyed, massacred heap. Ironhide and Sideswipe coughed through the dust and scanned the area.

"Damn." Ironhide said, looking up at the figures that grew smaller and smaller in the darkening sky. "I hate it when they fucking do that."

"Cowards!" Mudflap shouted after them.

Skids joined him. "Decepticon punk-asses!"

The Twins were quickly elbowed by Ironhide and Jolt as Sideswipe pointed them over to Sam who was surrounded by Optimus' hulking figure and Ratchet. It didn't look very good. Ratchet was small compared to Prime, sitting bent over Sam's body with his ear against his chest.

"Sam." Optimus repeated, "Sam, please."

Small shards of metal that Ratchet had managed to get out laid on a piece of cloth beside his body. Every open wound was properly bandaged in an attempt to save what little blood was left in Sam's pale body. Ratchet called Jolt over and connected a small device to one of his electrical outputs. "Clear!"

Sam's body bent up towards the sky but his eyes remained closed. Ratchet put two fingers against the boy's neck and shook his head, "Damn. No pulse. Rise the voltage, Jolt. Clear!"

He gave another jerk and another lifeless smack back onto the ground.

"Clear!" Again, he felt no pulse.

Bumblebee's vocalizers whined in grief, and quickly turned his away. Optimus brought his head close to Sam and spoke pleadingly. "Don't give up, Sam, do you hear me? I need you. You have to get up. Sam...Sam...."


	13. Make it a dirt dance floor again

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Well, this is the crappiest ending I've done in a while. I'm contemplating writing an Epilogue, please review and tell me if you agree with me writing an aftermath chapter for this. My second Transformers baby is all done, and I'm so proud of myself. This has taken well over three weeks of my life, and is at least two times the amount of words (and quality) than its prequel. Remember, if you'd like me to do an epilogue, please let me know. I'm quite enjoying that idea right now.  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own anybody in this story.

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"_Sam....Sam..._SAM!"

Sam Witwicky twitched awake to a lightheaded feeling overwhelming him. His aching, sore arm suddenly shoved a hand against his forehead and he moaned, "Ugh...where am I?"

"See, I told you he wasn't in no coma." A nasally voice that Sam determined belonged to a green garbed figure responded. "He's alive. You owe me ten dollars."

"What the hell are you going to do with human money anyway?" A nearby figure in red snapped angrily. The green silhouette shrugged. "I don't know. It's just nice to have, knowing I took it from yous."

"You guys, shut up." Jolt scolded.

"M-Mudflap...? Skids?" Sam wasn't going to sit up; his body felt like it had been run over. He opened his eyes and turned his head as best he could. He was surrounded by everyone, even Ironhide, all in their human shapes. Who had been calling his name? "I'm alive?"

"You've been in a coma for the past three months under intensive care. I've been giving you blood supplements I managed to find here and Captain Lennox allowed us with the supplies for a transfusion. Thank god Optimus knew your blood type..." Ratchet was working on a piece of paper attached to a wooden clip board, but he stopped to welcome the awakened patient.

"We've taken care of everything at school; don't worry. The Dean's going to let you go on to your junior year even after this three month absence." Sideswipe reassured from behind mirror aviator sunglasses. Why wear sunglasses in doors?

"Wow, guys, I-I thought I was a goner." Sam mumbled, "I just—"

Optimus Prime was closest to him on his right, tears welling in his bright blue eyes, and on his left was Bumblebee. Sam blinked dazedly, as if hoping the tears weren't real. He looked ragged, with slightly noticeable cheekbones and his ebony hair was messy. Bee didn't look much better; he seemed in desperate need of a haircut.

"Optimus, it was you. You were here the whole ti—"

Prime's hands grabbed Sam's face and framed it, his lips pressed onto Sam's with a gentle longing. Sam was so happy to be alive; so happy to be here, with Optimus and the others. He was so happy to feel Optimus touching his face, holding him. After a couple of seconds, tears ran down Optimus' cheeks and Sam began to taste salt. Prime broke away and whispered, "I never left your side, not once. I kept calling your name. I knew you'd come back, Sam."

Sam chuckled, "If I didn't, that would've meant you broke your promise."

Prime's face turned into a frown but he couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, you have a point."

"All right, you two, break it up. Sam needs to rest." Ironhide said, clapping his hands together and pointing to the door. "The rest of you vultures, get out of here. Ratchet and Bee and Optimus can stay."

They stared at him in disbelief, but the Vin Diesel clone raised an eyebrow inquisitively and the Twins, Jolt, and Sideswipe quickly left. Ironhide stood at the door with his hand on the knob, "So, uh, Sam. I just wanted to say...sorry."

"Sorry?" Sam asked. "What for?"

"I was such a prick to you guys. I guess...as long as you guys are happy, it's not so bad. Yeah. So, uh, bye." With that, he shut the door. Sam laughed softly to himself. Bumblebee must've ridden his ass about it while he was gone or out of it. Speaking of which, Sam turned his head and faced Bee. "You've been here the whole time too?"

The blond boy nodded, his hair shaking and bobbing on his head. Sam scoffed, "You two are unbelievable." He moved to get up, to hug his guardian, but his stomach ached and he quickly dropped back onto the soft, comfortable pillow behind his head. His bare chest still bore the pain-induced Decepticon logo, now a dark pink mark over his heart, and he swallowed the need to vomit. Everything that happened was real. He'd been on the brink of death. The Autobots had brought him back. They saved his life again.

"I really need to start writing IOU's for you guys," Sam's voice was a faint whisper, almost inaudible. "...Are they gone for good?"

"No," Optimus replied grudgingly. "They got away again, the cowards. But we'll be ready for them next time."

"You guys will be able to talk about all that later. Right now, Sam needs to rest. He's had a lot to deal with." Ratchet reminded almost impatiently, tapping the pen angrily against his clipboard. Bumblebee nodded to Optimus with understanding and stood away from the bed. Sam didn't want either of them to leave. He wanted to hold both of them close, wanted both of them to lie down next to him and make him feel warm and safe. But his body was weak and his voice was gone. Ratchet was right. He needed to rest.

"I love you, Sam. Sleep well." Optimus' soothing voice spoke. Sam shut his eyes and almost instantly fell back into a deep slumber. And this time, he had nothing but sweet dreams.


	14. Say your prayers and stomp it out

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I was laying in bed last night for an hour and I managed to come up with all of this. The Epilogue will be a two-part thing, and there will be some surprises in the end for you readers. Thank you for being patient with me. This is my payment for all you out there whom I love. 3 The next part won't be up for a couple of days cause I have to splurge my time on a paper due for school, so please wait it out!

DISCLAIMER: I don't own anybody.

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"All right, come on, you can do it." Optimus cooed. "Just a few more steps and you don't have to walk for the rest of the day; okay?" His shoulders were hunched and his arms extended, reaching towards Sam, like a father teaching his child how to walk for the very first time. Sam wobbled unsteadily to Optimus, looking as if he were going to fall over any second. He'd spent three months in a coma with broken legs (fixed by Ratchet of course). Unfortunately, Sam was duped into physical therapy so that he could walk again, although he claimed he didn't mind having Bumblebee or Optimus push him around in a wheelchair everyday. Sam's hands latched onto Optimus' the instant they were in reach in fear of accidentally falling somehow. He pulled him in tightly, so close that Sam could hear the whirring hum of the Spark in his chest. Prime looked down at Sam and smiled, "You did well today."

"Okay, Optimus, you can put him back in the wheelchair now. He's improving. Sam should be walking in a matter of weeks." Ratchet said without lifting his eyes from his clipboard. "I must say he's been doing an excellent job considering he refuses to accept human treatments."

"I told you, I didn't want the people at the hospital getting suspicious of me. Anyone with the kind of wounds I had would've been rushed to the emergency room right away but mine were three or four days old," Sam responded, grunting in small fits of pain as Optimus assisted him back to the wheelchair that had grown to be familiar. "You seem to know what you're doing; you kept me alive for three months."

"Just consider yourself lucky that I decided to research human medicinal practices, Sam." Ratchet cleared his throat and put the clipboard underneath his arm, very much like a real doctor, "I need to check on you later to see how your scars are doing from that laser treatment. Well, you need to be getting back to class. You have a lecture in half an hour."

"Optimus, can you get me back to Princeton then? I need to get my things from my room." Even though his dormitory room was on the second floor and he certainly couldn't climb stairs yet, even if he wanted to. In other words, Optimus would have to go up and get them himself. He'd been doing a lot of things lately that involved waiting on Sam hand and foot quite literally. Sam didn't like the feeling of being so helpless; it made him feel weaker than he already was.

Nine weeks had come and gone since he awoke from the coma, and since then the Autobots had tried to do everything to make his recovery as smooth as possible. Ratchet had been monitoring his physical rehabilitation, Sideswipe was helping out around school, Ironhide was serving as a bodyguard from any nosey classmates, and Bumblebee and Optimus had suddenly become Sam's personal chauffeurs. Since then, Will Lennox had arranged a few appointments with a dermatologist (who was probably paid to keep quiet) to perform laser surgery that everyone hoped would improve his scars. So far as he knew, it was working very well on everything but the one scar that sat on top of his heart. No matter how much treatment he received, that scar wouldn't be going away—even the doctor said that it had been cut too deeply to treat entirely. Sam somehow expected that; Megatron left a mark and intended for it to _stay _there. The events that transpired in that warehouse seemed like a distant memory to him...

Bumblebee slowed to a stop in an empty parking lot at Princeton, free of any college students' sight. The passenger side door opened abruptly and startled Sam from his thoughts. Optimus stood very professionally and offered a hand to help Sam into the already prepared wheelchair. He wore a careful smile on his face, one that overflowed with warmth and kindness. Sam felt his heart melt inside his chest—could he be in love with anyone more perfect?

"Up you get." He said before he assisted in lifting him from the car seat into the chair. There was really no work on Sam's part, and the boy felt light as a feather when Optimus lifted him bridal-style into his current mode of transportation. The Camaro disappeared almost simultaneously and a slightly older Bumblebee stood in its place, his track jacket torn and worn out in certain places. A childlike grin spread on his face, and he silently motioned to be the chauffeur for the day. Optimus hesitated slightly but relinquished control of the handles on either side of the wheelchair to Sam's guardian. He cruised alongside their leisurely walk anyway and insisted on going in to grab his things for his lecture.

As they reached the dormitory, Prime took his time on getting inside and upstairs. Slowly, the door creaked open and Optimus coughed from the disgustingly hazy room. Smoke, wasn't it? It was unlike any smoke he'd ever experienced before. His hand waved in front of his face as he struggled to breathe. His optical sensors focused and refocused before he could actually get a good view on things. Laughter roared from the computer room in the back and something fell with a smash. Optimus believed the scent was something called marijuana. Sam had come around him smelling like that before, but stated that only his dormmates smoked and it got all over his clothes. Optimus scoured through the mess that belonged to Sam Witwicky for the things he would need in Calculus.

"Wheelie, do something about those guys in the back," Optimus said to the RC car that sat on Sam's pillow, in its toy disguise. "I don't want them here when Sam and I get back. You're an autobot; that's an order."

The RC revved in defiance but said nothing; it wasn't like Wheelie could defy Prime anyway. Optimus ignored Sam's room mates shouts of "who's there?" and made his way out the door. It felt a lot better to be breathing clean air and the lightheaded feeling the smoke had given him was beginning to fade. He descended the flight of stairs and met up with Sam and Bumblebee back outside.

Sam wrinkled his nose and spoke, "Ugh, you smell disgusting."

"Yes, I know. Here are your things," He set them in Sam's lap cautiously as if he were afraid the weight would hurt him. "Be good. Pay attention to your lecture." Optimus kneeled down and softly cupped his face as he kissed the boy's cheek gently. "I'll see you later. Ratchet still needs to check up on you."

Sam felt his face flush, and he nodded with a smile. "Okay. Bee, let's go."

Bumblebee nodded and waved Optimus goodbye before pushing the wheelchair-ridden human on towards his next class.

A few more weeks came and went and before Sam knew it, it was winter again. He'd been walking on his own two feet for quite some time now, although he missed the constant attention from the Autobots. He wasn't passing all of his classes with flying colors, but he was still passing. Most of his free time consisted of either visiting the Autobot headquarters (Optimus had given him a way to get in) or working on his college career. His laser appointments finally paid off and Sam didn't feel so ashamed of his body but he still wore a bandage over the Decepticon insignia. Many nights, Sam never returned to his dormitory but stayed at Autobot HQ instead. It was easily accessible now that he had his Camaro back, and Sam certainly enjoined the company instead of his pothead dormmates. Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd slept in his bed back at the dorm—he usually only went in to get his things and left.

"Sam...get up." A voice whispered softly into his ear.

Sam groaned and shoved the pillow over his head, as he mumbled a demand of five more minutes. A hand prodded him in the side, unrelenting. "Sam, get _up._" The rich voice commanded again, a little louder this time. Sam felt a shifting beside him in the bed, and he rolled over. The air suddenly felt terrible cold and he realized the sheet had been ripped off of him.

He pulled the pillow away from his head and whined half-asleep, "What?"

"Sideswipe's up at the school and sent us a transmission. You have visitors waiting for you." Optimus was sitting with his legs hanging off the other side of the bed, his flawlessly pale skin shining under the overhead lights. Sam had to keep his eyes shut; it was too bright and he was too tired.

"Visitors? Are you kidding me?" He said through a yawn as he sat up. Who could possibly be visiting him? "Fine, I'm getting up." Sam didn't remember that he'd gone to bed shirtless either, but didn't feel uncomfortable around Optimus. He could've sworn he saw a frown flash on Prime's face for an instant. What was it that he saw? Sam looked down at his body and noticed the bandage had fallen off in his sleep. Oh. That.

"I've already got your clothes laid out for you. Meet me outside when you're ready to leave." Optimus said as he rose from the bed, and Sam smirked at the cute Transformers boxers he was wearing that he'd convinced Prime into wearing a while ago. He jumped out of bed and quickly got dressed. Prime had left out a plain black t-shirt with faded blue jeans and his favorite ratty shoes. Where were the other Autobots? Sam was surprised he hadn't woken up to a handful of shaving cream or some other kind of trick the Twins were scheming. He checked the time on the clock by Optimus' bed—it read 2:30 PM. They must all be out at Princeton by now, he thought. How could he have possibly slept in so late?

The security checkpoints in the headquarters were easily bypassed with the new pass Optimus had made. The gang even added his retinal scan to activate the elevator so Sam could come in when he pleased. The elevator clunked to a stop and Sam emerged from the shack. The glossy flamed Peterbilt sat on the side of the nearest road, its engine hissing and humming. The horn honked briefly.

"Yeah, I know. I'm coming."

Optimus squeaked to a stop, and Sam rubbed his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was true. Judy and Ron Witwicky stood by their dark-colored car, talking with Leo and some of the Autobots in human disguise. They both looked older; new wrinkles were beginning to set it on his mother's face where she constantly smiled and the hair on his father's head was speckled with gray. He hopped out of the truck and was instantly faced with a squeal of happiness from his mother as she came rushing towards him.

"Sammy!" She squeaked as she hugged him tightly. "Oh, my little boy, I've missed you!" Judy pulled away and held his face in her hands, turning it this way and that. "You've gotten so much bigger! Look at you! Oh, what are these scars from? Have you been fighting?"

He took a step back and smiled weakly, "Hi to you too, mom."

Ron approached Sam and patted him on the back, "Hey, son. How you doing?"

"What are you two doing here?" As much as Sam loved his parents, the last time they'd been on Princeton campus, his mother made a fool out of him. He'd never been so embarrassed in his life.

"We were on our way to Spain, we decided to take a detour through New Jersey to see our boy. Our flight from here leaves in two hours." Ron chuckled and his thick face widened in a grin. Sam laughed half-heartedly.

"Sammy, how did you get this scar?" Judy's finger brushed the faint pink mark on his cheek. Her bushy orange-brown hair was even frizzier now that she'd gotten older. "What's been happening while we were gone? You never call, you never write. Why don't you come back with us?"

"Mom, no, I can't. I'm almost a senior here. I have to finish college." He had no intention of telling them what had been happening in the meantime. Sam came up with some sort of lie. "I fell and scraped my face; don't worry."

She grabbed him again and hugged him, muttering more about her baby boy and how much she'd missed him. Sam felt like he was going to be sick. His father shoved his hands in his pockets and laughed, "Judy, let him go. You're going to kill him."

She did as she was told and Sam could suddenly breathe again.

"So how's Mikaela doing?"

Of course his dad would bring her up. Sam shook his head and stared at his feet for a second, "I don't really know. We don't talk so much anymore. We split more than a year ago, dad."

Ron didn't seem that surprised. In fact, Sam thought he looked like he was expecting it. That suddenly made him angry. His mother frowned and mumbled apologies softly. He didn't know why she was apologizing. Sam didn't even really mind talking about it anymore; it didn't upset him at all.

"I had a feeling you two weren't going to last. So why'd she leave—you weren't giving her what she wanted? She find someone better?" Pure curiosity rang in his voice. Sam had to bite his lip to stop himself from punching him. "You just weren't good anymore?"

"No, she just couldn't handle me, I guess. A lot of things have changed since Egypt. I've...had a busy schedule." What more could he say? "The Autobots are still around; I've been helping them."

"Robots over a girl like that? Son, I thought you knew better than to let a catch go." Ron sighed. Sam smiled a fake smile, "Well, dad, guess you got what you expected. I'm pretty happy here without her. If you could just understand that—"

"Sam." He recognized the voice that called him from behind. Optimus Prime's hand rested on his shoulder comfortingly, his blue eyes causing all of Sam's anger to dissipate. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Sam couldn't have asked for better timing; if he spent any more time with his parents, he'd probably feel the need to rip his hair out.

Sam nodded. "I have to go. I love you guys. Have fun in Spain. Send me back a souvenir." He hugged them as briskly as he possibly could and walked away with Optimus Prime. He waited until they were back in his dormitory, seemingly empty, before he said anything to the Autobot leader, "Thank you for that back there." They were stretched out on his bed, with Sam resting his head on Optimus' chest. The scent of marijuana lingered in the air, but the open window helped.

"I didn't want you to leave on a bad note with your parents." Prime replied. "Don't you know better than to be mean to your visitors?"

"I-I'm sorry," Sam murmured, almost with shame. He lifted his head so that he could look at Optimus' face. "They just don't know what's going on with me now. They don't know a thing about me or you or us—"

Hands held Sam again, and Optimus whispered comfortingly. "Don't worry."

Sam pecked Optimus on the lips and muttered another thank you. Next thing he knew, he was sitting on top of Optimus, mouths locked in a deep, luscious kiss. It had been a while since they'd done anything since Prime was afraid of hurting him during physical therapy, but Sam felt deprived. Prime's lips felt so warm, so soft. It had been too long since he'd tasted them, and he was overwhelmed with a ravenous need for them. Optimus broke away and began kissing along his jaw, enticing gentle moans from the boy. Everything was going so fast; Sam's body was in control and was doing things without his consent. Shirts were being yanked off and thrown onto the floor—Optimus must've been eager too. He found himself pressed against Prime and was riddled with goosebumps from the insanely warm feeling his Spark generated.

There was a snicker from the other side of the room. "This is so going on Youtube. I can see six million views already." Sam thought he and Optimus were the only ones there—that all of his dormmates had gone out somewhere—but Leo stood with an idiotic grin on his face, a camcorder practically glued to his eye. Sam rolled off of Optimus and groaned. "Leo."

Optimus stood up and rebuttoned his business shirt. His face was bright red; he was probably just as embarrassed as Sam was. "I have to go anyway." He kissed Sam on the cheek and left, slamming the door on his way out.

"Hey, why'd you guys stop? This is your official sex tape, Sam." Leo whined, stopping the recording. He grumbled to himself as he retreated back into the computer room with the camcorder. Sam turned onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillows, not really caring if the cotton material muffled his screams or not.


	15. When they bring that chorus in

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, well, this is it. Thank you all for reading my story. I hope you've enjoyed it as much I did while writing it. It was a good devotion of a month or so of my life, and I only hope that I get to write more in the future. The epilogue is done now, Bound is complete. So far, no, I do not have any plans for writing for Transformer things or a sequel to this sequel. I'm sorry, but that's the truth. However, that isn't set in stone—it may change in the near future or when I get my school-issued laptop. (: Hope for the best is all I can say. Thank you all again! Transformers ftw!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the Transformers, or any other characters.

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He wasn't sure how much more slandering his name could take. Much to Sam's dismay, Leo had told almost everyone willing to listen to him about Sam's new partner although he never dared to say his name. In a matter of days, the entire campus knew him by name and knew what he was up to. Sam was insanely embarrassed and only showed up to class because Optimus constantly forced him to and wouldn't allow him to hide away in headquarters to miss school. When he had to show, Optimus would chauffeur him to class and Ironhide worked full time as a bodyguard from classmates. Even with Vin around, that didn't stop the looks people gave him in the hallways. Any time he was seen with Prime, girls would instantly start whispering and glancing at them over their shoulders and boys would sneer and shove their way past. Sam had been having a strong desire to pull himself in like a turtle and hide until it all blew over. But it wouldn't, and he knew that for sure.

For nearly three weeks, Sam had to put up with the awkward tension between him and the rest of the students. It deteriorated over time, and people grew to be less nosey eventually. At one point, some girl had slipped past Ironhide's detection and actually asked Optimus for his name. She had to have been a freshmen—she wore a ripped hoodie and fishnet and had brown hair with bright blue eyes, and was particularly pushy with Prime.

"And who're you, huh? What's your name?" She was extremely intent on questioning him, but Optimus stood back and called Ironhide over. He ignored her questions, returned to Sam while 'Hide drove the rabid fangirl away, and held his hand. Walking around campus was a living hell to Sam yet Optimus didn't seem to be bothered by anybody's opinion of them like him. So much for keeping up appearances, Sam thought to himself. He didn't try to talk to him about that weird girl; he just continued walking, enjoying the warm touch of Optimus' large hand laced through his own. Absolutely no amount of school humiliation was going to stop him from loving Prime.

Leo had been dealt with accordingly, however. The other Autobots decided to have a long talk with him about exposing people's personal lives and the camcorder had been officially terminated. Sam didn't see Leo around his dorm for a couple days, not that he minded it very much. His other roommates said something about him having to check into a hospital because he got hit by a car, which was pretty much what he deserved. The Twins had to have been involved, but he never brought it up with them. It was better if he didn't know more than he needed to. Sam felt that whatever they did he probably brought upon himself anyway.

Christmas was right around the corner and Sam wanted to plan a celebration for the gang, who had never heard of such a holiday before. Like always, the pastime of holiday shopping was in order and the Autobots had decided to go out to Manhattan on a shopping trip for Sam. They did nothing but complain about the cold until they got there, and were bundled in all sorts of warmth when they stepped out into the frigid New York air. Sam wore a ski cap and a scarf to protect his face and Optimus had adorned him with an especially thicker coat than the others had for fear of his sensitive human body. The streets were crowded and people shoved their way towards their destination, gaudily lit Christmas signs hung in the windows of every single store they passed. One of the twins sneezed and began complaining about the cold, but Sam couldn't tell which because their scarves covered most of their faces.

Sam had sent the Autobots off on their own so that he could shop for them. He had to explain the whole 'you're not supposed to know what's in your present' thing for almost ten minutes before they understood the concept. He didn't mind; it was fun to buy things for people instead of getting things for himself. He got Ratchet an copy of Advanced Medicinal Practices, a new set of dumbbells for Ironhide, another iPod for Bumblebee (so that he could keep his old one), a pinstriped suit for Sideswipe, more "bling" for the Twins, a handheld tazer for Jolt, and a specially made framed photo of him and Optimus for Prime. It wasn't much, but he wanted to do something for everyone.

After a couple of hours of intense shopping, Sam met up at the Starbucks café he'd specified to the others. They were all there waiting for him and sipping their own drinks when Sam came in and dropped all of his pre-wrapped things on the floor around him. He sighed, and sat in the empty chair next to Sideswipe. "Well, that was an exhausting experience."

"You look tired," Sideswipe pointed out. "Does Christmas do this to everyone?"

"Anyone who shops," Sam added.

To Sam, hanging out with the Autobots was more fun than he ever had with his old friends. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, but it made him feel better than he ever did before he met them. Sure, their friendship also involved fighting cataclysmic battles for the good of mankind against advanced robots bent on destruction, but Sam didn't mind so long as he survived and nobody was severely injured. Sideswipe told embarrassing stories of his nights on the town that everyone listened to and laughed. Optimus left and came back with a drink for Sam, which was thanked by a kiss on the cheek. They should go shopping more often, Sam thought.

After a while, they grew quiet and began staring out the café window at the onslaught of never ending New Yorkers hustling and bustling down the streets. It had begun snowing and in about an hour, the pavement and sidewalks were absolutely swallowed in white.

"New York never sleeps, does it?" Jolt remarked, watching the snowfall.

Optimus got up from his seat and was met with a curious glance from Sam. He smiled and shoved his hat onto his head, "I'm going across the street for a minute. There's something over there I want to look at." Sam understood and didn't protest as Prime made his way out the door into the bitter cold.

Prime wasn't very used to making his way through crowds. Most New Yorkers were extremely rude and ignored his polite mumbles of "excuse me" or "pardon me" and continued past him, shoving him as if he was the main thing keeping them from where they needed to be. Traffic was at a standstill so he didn't have much trouble once he finally reached the street. He weaved through the still taxis and vans and buses that honked impatiently at the traffic jam, and finally got to the shop across Starbucks that he wanted to see.

It was a newsstand, with magazines covered with beautifully scanty women and men with outstanding muscles and newspapers detailing the inevitable fall of the States' economy protected by a small wooden overhanging. The clerk chewed his gum noisily and glanced up from his DS when Optimus approached. There was a certain paper that caught his eyes, a superstitious newspaper of sorts that had a large article on the front detailing the sudden collapse of an abandoned warehouse scheduled for demolition. The newspaper was several weeks old, and Prime wondered why it was still on display. Smaller photos showed sightings of a police cruiser (Optimus recognized to be Barricade) patrolling the warehouse and a blurring glimpse of an F-22 Raptor lifting off from inside. After reading the article, he found their conclusions to be completely off and false, much to his relief. Prime considered the possibility of NEST's involvement to pay the paper's editors to keep quiet about such odd events. He took a step back from the stand and was engulfed once more by the crowd of people on the sidewalks.

Just as he was about to turn back to the Starbucks, a voice whispered heatedly in his ear, "Don't move."

A cold piece of metal pressed against his back, aimed almost directly as his Spark, and Optimus immediately froze with the newspaper in his hand. He knew that voice. He _had _to know that voice. Prime didn't try to look over his shoulder and people simply moved around him obliviously unaware that someone had a gun on him.

"I'm still not finished with you. This has just begun."

Sam came out and shouted across the street, "Hey, we're getting ready to..."

The metal disappeared from Optimus' sensors, and he spun to see who had threatened him. There was no one there but the blank faces of passersby, a single glimpse of a brown hood headed in the other direction of everyone else. Him. Before Optimus got more than a couple feet towards him, he was gone. The crowd had successfully cloaked his getaway.

Sam was suddenly at his side, panting and frantic. "Did you see that? I saw a gun and he...W-Who was that?"

Optimus scanned the dense street again, but scowled when he couldn't find that hooded figure. "If it's who I think it was, then this isn't over. This is only the beginning." The rest of his words were lost in the overwhelming din of Manhattan.


End file.
